The Darkest Hour
by unplugged32
Summary: Will's past threatens his future. Can Jack stop what fate has set in motion? UPDATED 03 25 07 Part II Chapter 8
1. Default Chapter

The Darkest Hour  
  
Author - Unplugged32  
  
Rating - PG-13  
  
Classification - Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)  
  
Summary - Will's past threatens his future. Can Jack stop what fate has set in motion?  
  
Email - unplugged3232@yahoo.com  
  
Disclaimer - Obviously, the characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.  
  
Author's note: Huge thanks to the lovely Holls and the wonderful Mel for betaing yet another story despite their hectic schedules;)  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Will Turner hurried over the well worn cobblestones that lined the streets of Port Royal, his hands dug deep into the pockets of his coat, his head ducked slightly against the harsh wind that whipped against his face, blowing his unbound chestnut locks into his eyes, impeding his vision and slowing his progress. It was the kind of night that Port royal rarely experienced in mid-November, the temperature easily the lowest Will could remember in the 9 years he'd resided on the island. The foul wind and blackened skies were so unusual that if he'd been the superstitious type, as many residents of the port town were, he might have taken the weather as an omen, a forewarning that some misfortune may soon be upon them. That thought, however, never crossed the young man's mind. The only thing that concerned Will at that moment was purchasing a hot meal at the tavern before their kitchen closed and then taking it back to his tiny quarters at the blacksmith's shop, where he could eat it in peace.  
  
By nature, Will was the sociable sort that usually didn't mind taking his supper in the company of the patrons of the White Horse tavern. But tonight he was tired to the bone, his arms and hands aching from the hours of restoration work he'd done over at the widow Graeme's house just outside of town. It was still difficult for Will to refer to the house as his own, even though it had belonged to him for over two months now. He'd never in his life had a home of his own, not back in England and certainly not here in Port Royal, and at times, he could hardly believe that Margaret Graeme had sold him the lovely cottage for nothing more than the down payment and a contract that stated that he would deposit an agreed sum in her bank account each month until the debt was paid. Mrs. Graeme had been widowed for years and longed to return to England to be near her children. Yet ill health and her strong ties to the island had made her decision a difficult one. When she'd heard that Will had been discreetly inquiring about purchasing a house, she's asked her solicitor send for him. It was no secret that the young Mister Turner had hopes of making Governor Swann's only daughter his bride. The idea that Will and the lovely Elizabeth would start their lives together in her home was just the right amount of incentive the sentimental old woman needed to make her decision.  
  
Will had been stunned when Mrs. Graeme explained all of this to him. He knew she was a woman who had no financial worries but still, her offer of the house with such generous conditions was almost too incredible believe. After a lifetime of hardship it was difficult for Will to accept that something so wonderful was about to happen for him. His own home, to be paid for of course with his hard work, but with terms that suited his financial situation almost perfectly. It seemed too good to be true. But when the contracts were signed and the deed rested in his strong, callused hand, Will began to think that maybe his luck had finally turned. That someone up there had decided it was high time that Will Turner had a chance at happiness.  
  
With the deed to the house folded carefully in the pocket of his finest coat, Will had formally requested the hand of Miss Elizabeth Swann from her father just two days after the papers had been signed. It was a meeting the Governor had been expecting since Elizabeth's safe return to Port Royal 6 months earlier, but in all honesty he hadn't thought Will would be in a position to come to see him for at least another year. Even with the blacksmith's shop now solely his after Mr. Brown's death in a drunken brawl, the Governor had thought it would take Will some time to gather the funds needed to start his life with Elizabeth.  
  
For his part, Will knew that Elizabeth's father hadn't accepted his proposal wholeheartedly, but the fact remained that he had accepted it and with the engagement ball that followed just two weeks later, he let the rest of Port Royal know that his daughter had his blessing. Will Turner was certainly somewhat of a rebel, and of course, the son of a notorious pirate, but he had risked his life and his freedom to save Elizabeth and Weatherby Swann knew in his heart that if it ever came to it, the boy would do it all again. After everything that had happened to them, the only thing that mattered anymore to Swann was the safety and the happiness of his only child.  
  
When he finally reached the tavern, Will pushed open the scarred, wooden door with a grateful sigh. The common room was full, the air overly warm from the crush of bodies and the fire that burned hotly in the blackened stone hearth, but Will was glad for a respite from the howling wind that caused the shutters of the aging tavern to bang loudly against the weatherworn stone walls.  
  
"Those latches need to be repaired, or you'll need new shutters before the winter's out." Will told the proprietor, Reg Blackwall. "I'll come by tomorrow and take measurements."  
  
Reg sighed as he carefully packed Will's dinner into a basket. "I won't be able to pay you 'till the end of the month though, lad. That's when all these blighters usually come to make good on their tabs."  
  
"That's alright, Reg. I'm glad to do it. I'd hate to see those shutters broken up because of a few shillings. You've always been a good friend to me." Will told the older man fondly as he paid for his food and reached for the basket.  
  
"Will, lad.wait. I almost forgot. Mary said someone'd come in earlier, a stranger, askin' bout you. Wanted to know where you was since the shop was closed."  
  
Will turned back to Reg, his expression puzzled. "A stranger? Did he say what he wanted?"  
  
Reg frowned slightly. "It weren't 'bout business, that I know, 'cause Mary asked him. Didn't want you to lose an order or anything. That girl's sweet on you, ye know."  
  
Will hadn't known actually. Embarrassed, he quickly turned the conversation back to the stranger. "So what did he want then, this stranger?"  
  
Reg shook his head. "Didn't say, just asked some questions, like where you lived and if she knew where you were, when you were coming back. That sort of thing. She didn't like the look of 'im though. Said he was dressed really nicely, like a fancy shopkeeper or a banker maybe, but he had a rough feel about him, like them clothes weren't what he wore usually."  
  
Confused, Will just nodded. It seemed odd that a stranger would come looking for him for anything else aside from a commission. Still, it didn't concern him overly much. He just wanted to get back to the shop where he was looking forward to a bath and a well-deserved rest.  
  
"Tell Mary I appreciate her letting me know. If he comes back though Reg, see if you can get his name please."  
  
"Will do, lad. I don't like the sound of strangers sniffin' around. Not after all that 'orrid pirate business last year. Folks are still trying to rebuild their lives. It would be the end of this town for sure if it were to 'appen again."  
  
Nodding solemnly in agreement, Will buttoned his coat up to the top. With the basket clutched tightly in one hand he pushed the heavy oak door open with the other. Outside, the wind still whipped about fiercely, and Will moved quickly along the darkened street towards his shop. It seemed as if the weather was only getting worse, the heavy, gray clouds completely shrouding the stars that had shined so brightly above Port Royal just the previous evening. Odd, Will mused to himself that the usual balmy weather had given way so suddenly to such a foul tempest. It was just the sort of night though that Elizabeth loved, Will thought, his lips turning up into a half smile. Once, many years ago, when they were both still children, Elizabeth had told him the only thing she truly missed about England was the changing of the seasons. On the island, one warm season simply bled into the next, the change so subtle one hardly noticed the difference. In the fall though, the rains would come, and when they did Elizabeth loved to stand outside in the gardens of her father's palatial home where she would revel in the feel of the warm droplets running over her face, breathing in deeply the scent of the wet earth, her mind traveling fondly back in time to her childhood in the English countryside. More than once over the past two months Will had come upon her like this, his heart near bursting with love as he'd watch her frolic like a child in the puddles that lined the path from the gate to the Governor's mansion. Elizabeth might have been born with the proverbial silver spoon into a world of luxury and privilege yet she possessed the soul and the spirit of a woman who saw life as a grand adventure, to be lived as she felt fit and not as society would dictate.  
  
A few scant hours had passed since Will had last seen his betrothed but he still felt that aching emptiness that seemed to assault him more and more these days when they were apart. Maybe it was because he'd never really known before what it was to love, and to be loved, so fiercely. Or maybe it was simply his insecurities and his fear that everything was coming together too perfectly to actually be real. He knew that these feelings greatly disturbed Elizabeth and Will took great pains to keep his misgivings to himself. She was his life, his reason to exist and making her happy had become his sole purpose. He was determined to ensure that nothing would dampen her spirits as she made her plans for the day that would bond them together for the duration of theirs lives. A formality really, for as far as Will was concerned, his heart had been bound to hers from the moment that they'd met. And he knew, at long last, that the feeling was mutual.  
  
A few feet from the entrance to the blacksmith's shop that now had Will's name embossed proudly above the door, he stopped, his free hand searching his pockets for the ring of keys he needed to unlock the sturdy gate that he'd recently fitted to the entryway. Sadly, Port Royal was no longer the same safe town it once had been. Despite the earnest efforts of the magistrate and Commodore Norrington's troops, the streets had become increasingly dangerous as the years passed. Will had thought it prudent to safeguard his shop as best as he could. After all, he entire future depended upon the goods he produced. He'd come too far and worked too hard to leave his livelihood unprotected and at the mercy of thieves and pirates.  
  
The first droplets of rain splashed against his face just as Will dug the keys from the inner pocket of his coat. The well oiled gate swung open easily, and Will slipped under the protection of the covered entranceway, relieved to finally be home. He put the basket carefully on the ground in front of the sturdy oak door and turned to lock the gate behind him when a strong, eerily familiar voice called to him from the darkened street. It seemed as if a lifetime had passed since the last time he'd heard that voice call his name, but there was no mistaking that deep, distinctive baritone. Will felt something akin to a vise wrap itself around his heart and his jaw clenched, his body rigid with a mixture of disbelief and anger. The rain had started to fall in earnest now and the cloaked figure moved closer, slipping through the open gate, letting the hood of his finely-cut cape fall back to reveal his face. This must be Mary's stranger, Will thought at once, realizing with irony that this man, despite his connection to Will, truly was a stranger to him.  
  
"Will." The man stated simply, staring at him intently, his eyes devouring the boy as if seeing him for the first time. He stretched one trembling hand towards Will, as if to touch him, but Will flinched visibly, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he took two steps back to avoid the contact. For most of his life he'd dreamed of this moment, fantasized about it, but never would he have imagined that he'd feel like this. Hurt. Angry. Betrayed. Disappointed. Disillusioned. He felt a bitter sense of satisfaction as he saw the flash of pain in the other man's eyes and on his weather-beaten face at Will's less than warm reception. The man's shoulder's sagged heavily and suddenly, he looked older, weaker, more fragile than his years, but Will didn't care. He crossed his arms casually across his chest and leaned back against the still-locked door of his shop, his face set in a hard mask before he finally broke the silence.  
  
"Hello father." 


	2. Chapter 2

The Darkest Hour  
  
Author - Unplugged32  
  
Rating - PG-13  
  
Classification - Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)  
  
Summary - Will's past threatens his future. Can Jack stop what fate has set in motion?  
  
Email - unplugged3232@yahoo.com  
  
Disclaimer - Obviously, the characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.  
  
Authors notes and reviewer replies - at the end of the chapter  
  
Chapter 2  
  
A flash of lightning lit up the blackened sky, followed by a crash of thunder that rattled the heavy iron gate beside him. Rain pounded the cobblestones relentlessly, splashing muddy water against the older man's booted feet, his cloak now soaked through but he remained where he was, his back exposed to the heavy deluge yet still reluctant to move forward to seek the protection of the shop's covered entry. Bill Turner's stomach twisted painfully as he watched his only child glare at him angrily, his handsome face marred by a hardness he'd never expected to see in the quiet, gentle boy he'd left behind in England. A hardness, Bill realized sadly, that had come of years of living on his own, without the comforts of a home and a loving family.  
  
There was no way to turn back the clock and do it all again. He'd done what he'd done and nothing would change that. But that didn't mean that Bill didn't love his son. On the contrary, it was his love for his wife and son that had sent him to the sea, hoping to make his fortune, no matter how misguided that idea might have been. How could he have predicted what would follow? That his reckless choices would cost him his family, his foolhardiness nearly kill his son. He'd pay for his mistakes though, a thousand times over, and Bill had come to accept the curse as just and fair punishment. Not for his misdeeds as a pirate, though, but for abandoning his wife and his precious son for the promise of accumulating a great fortune. It was only when Jack Sparrow had been left to die on that God forsaken island did Bill truly begin to see beyond his desire to build his family a grand home and dress them in fine clothes. A good man and a good friend had been sacrificed for nothing and on an impulse, Bill had damned them all for it by sending Will that single piece of gold.  
  
How could Bill have known though, that by doing so he'd put Will in such grave danger? By the time it had occurred to him it was too late. He'd spent more time than he cared to remember on the bottom of the sea, rescued only when time and nature had eaten away at the bindings that held him hostage in the ocean's murky depths. Rescued by a merchant vessel, Bill made for England immediately, in search of his family and more importantly, the medallion he'd recklessly sent to Will. He needed to get the cursed gold as far away from his son as soon as possible. Sooner or later, Barbossa and his men would locate the boy and Bill could only imagine the horrors his son might endure at their hands. At the time, he knew nothing of the blood sacrifice, but he knew Barbossa, and Bill guessed he'd probably kill the boy just for the sport of it.  
  
He wondered what Will would think if he knew his father had kept an account of sorts of his early life, written from cloudy memories with painstaking care in the back pages of an old family Bible. Over the years, when the desperation and the loneliness would become too weighty to bear, Bill would leaf through the yellowed pages in search of comfort, his crude handwriting often too difficult to read through eyes that burned with phantom tears he could not shed. The Bible was one of the few things Bill had bothered to take with him from the tiny home he'd shared with his wife and son, the home he'd found deserted when he finally managed to make his way back to England. His wife, he'd been told, had died of a terrible fever, his son gone to the New World, never to be heard from again. Devastated, Bill had spent days in the filthy, neglected cottage alone, his immortal soul tortured by the loss of his beloved family until it had dawned on him that the boy had inadvertently put himself directly in harms way by travelling to the New World, where Barbossa and the Black Pearl terrorized ports and merchant vessels without mercy.  
  
For years, Bill traveled from place to place, making his way as a hand on merchant vessels, searching for his son, hoping for some sign of the boy in every town he docked in. His only comfort came from the fact that he was still cursed, a sign that Will had not yet been found. Bill knew there was always a chance that the boy was already dead, killed by some foul play or cruel illness, buried in an unmarked grave in a town he'd never find. But something told him that if his child was dead, he'd know it, he'd sense it, regardless of the fact that the curse had robbed him of the ability to feel the sun on his face and the wind in his hair. Fuelled simply by hope and the strong conviction that Will was indeed still alive, Bill continued to search, never giving up until fate had brought him to Port Royal.  
  
"I guess there are many questions I could be asking you, but mostly I'm curious," Will said after a long moment, his voice cold. "Just how exactly did you find me?"  
  
Shivering, Bill pulled his wet cloak tighter around himself and moved slightly forward. "I've been looking for you for years, lad," he told Will, his voice low and gravelly with emotion. "I never stopped looking until I found you."  
  
Will cocked one brow. "And when did you find me, Father?" he asked, that last word uttered with a sneer.  
  
Bill took a deep breath and sighed. "I heard what happened, with you and Jack and that devil Barbossa. Word of the attack on Port Royal traveled quickly. It didn't take long for me to realize that if the Black Pearl was involved it was possible that it might have something to do with you," Bill explained cautiously, aware that Will was scrutinizing his every word. "I was on Hispaniola, part of a merchantman's crew when we learned of the attack. I left as fast as I could find a ship sailing for Jamaica. By the time I got here though, you'd already sailed off with Jack."  
  
"And then? It's been nearly a year, surely if you were here in Port Royal it didn't take you that long to make your way to the only blacksmith in town," Will retorted, sarcastically.  
  
"Will, please," Bill said imploringly. "Can we not talk somewhere quiet? I've come on a matter of great urgency."  
  
"Great urgency?" Will replied, astonished. "Surely you jest, father. When my mother was ill, yes, that was a matter of great urgency. And when she died and I was left alone, that too was a matter of great urgency. But you never came back. I waited and I waited, but you never came back," Will told him accusingly, all the years of pent-up hurt and anger stamped clearly across his young face. "I doubt that after all this time you'd have anything to say that would be of interest to me."  
  
Frustrated, Bill fought the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. "For the love of God, lad, just listen to me! I know you're angry and I know I have a lot of explaining to do, but you have to listen to me now."  
  
Will took two steps forward, his dark eyes blazing with anger. "No father, I don't, " he said coldly, "I don't owe you anything, actually. You abandoned us. You lied to us. You put us in danger when you sent me that wretched medallion. I think - I think it's best if you just leave now, sir, and please, don't ever come back."  
  
The rain had slowed considerably to a steady drizzle, the rumble of thunder now heard far in the distance as the storm moved on just as suddenly as it had come. Bill Turner stood face to face in the darkness with his only son, the flickering light from the street lamps lit earlier by the night watch bathing the boy's features with an eerie glow, his young face set rigidly in defiance. What he wouldn't give to see those handsome features soften, that taut mouth stretch wide into a genuine smile. There was so much that Bill wanted to say. So many things to explain, so many more to apologize for. But all that would have to wait, he realized painfully. He'd come here for a purpose. And whether or not Will wanted to hear him out, he'd make him listen.  
  
"All right, son. I'll go. But first, you'll hear what I have to say," Bill told him quietly, well aware that they were still out on the street. "I have information that I need to share with you, in private though. It concerns your safety, lad, and possibly the safety of your betrothed."  
  
At the mention of Elizabeth, Will went rigid, one hand going instinctively to the hilt of the sword that lay against his hip. "Sir, if you mean to threaten Elizabeth," he hissed furiously, "Father or not, I swear by God you won't live out this night."  
  
Bill took a step back, stunned by Will's accusations. "Do you honestly think that I mean to harm the woman you love? Dear God, boy, you go too far! I may be a pirate and poor excuse for a father but I'd never harm a woman, especially not the one you intend to make your bride!"  
  
Will however, appeared unconvinced. "Say what you will quickly, then, if only for the sake of my betrothed. Otherwise, father, I would not give you another moment of my time, " Will said lowly, his hand still resting firmly on the hilt of his sword.  
  
"It would be safer if we went inside," Bill warned, his eyes darting nervously up and down the darkened street for eavesdroppers.  
  
"Speak now, father," Will said impatiently. "For if Elizabeth's safety is at stake, I won't waste one more second."  
  
"There are men coming here, to Port Royal, to find you. They're pirates and scoundrels of the worst sort. They've been searching for Jack as well with no luck though. You need to get away from here, son, with Elizabeth, as soon as possible," Bill told him urgently. "You could go to England, in secret, and stay with the Governor's family for a while, until the threat has passed."  
  
"Pirates looking for me? Leave Port Royal? What nonsense is this, sir?" Will hissed, grabbing his father roughly by the arm. "Does this have something to do with you?" he asked suspiciously.  
  
Bill shook his head. "These men were once members of Jack's crew on the Black Pearl. They're searching for the gold, the Aztec gold. They feel it's rightfully theirs. Jack had left them behind on Tortuga before we set sail ten years ago with Barbossa's men. Jack thought they couldn't be trusted. And he was right."  
  
"Jack obviously isn't the best judge of character," Will said with a grimace. "He chose Barbossa and his crew and look what they did to him. Besides, that gold is cursed. Even the most disbelieving man knows that now."  
  
"Yes, well, apparently this lot doesn't believe in ghost stories. There's rumors though, that along with the gold there's a fortune in plunder hidden on that island, none of it ever confiscated by the authorities. With Barbossa and his crew all dead, these men decided they had a chance at the treasure. They've been searching for the Pearl for a few months now, but Jack seems to have learned his lessons well. The only other person who can lead them to the island would be Norrington or possibly one of his officers, but I doubt they'll risk the wrath of the entire British navy, son. They're coming for you, Will. They need you to lead them to the Isla de Muerta."  
  
"That's completely ridiculous! I'm no sailor. I highly doubt I could navigate my way back there."  
  
Bill sighed wearily. "You're probably right there, but they don't know that. They want the treasure, and if Jack can't lead them to it, they're hoping you can."  
  
"I'm almost afraid to ask how you know all this," Will said carefully, his expression unreadable. "I would think that only someone involved in such a plot would know so many intimate details."  
  
Those words stung, but Bill pushed aside his hurt for the moment. "I've spent the past nine months here Will, laboring on the docks. I heard the whole story from a man named Steele, a privateer I sailed with for a year or so, and I trust his word. He came into Port Royal this afternoon in a hurry to get supplies and sail out. He warned me that there might be some sort of attack, and I pressed him for more information. He heard it all on Tortuga, where those pirates went looking for Jack and a blacksmith from Port Royal called Turner. Steele doesn't know I'm your father, though. I call myself Bill Williams and no one's ever challenged that."  
  
"If what you say is true, I need to warn Norrington. They'll not take us unawares again this time," Will told him with conviction.  
  
Bill nodded. "Aye, it's best you go straight to the Commodore, but they won't attack, I'm almost sure of that. They'll sail into port pretty as you please, flying the Queen's colors and pretending to be merchants, with their papers and all. I know this lot. They're cowards. They won't want a fight.."  
  
Will was silent for a moment as he absorbed all he'd been told. Bill knew it was a lot to take in, especially coming from him, the father that had lied to him and then deserted him. But time was passing and every second they tarried was a second that put Will closer to grave danger. "Son, I know this all must sound like madness, but please, you must trust me. We need to hurry, to get you to Norrington before the worst happens."  
  
Will nodded slowly, his expression taut. "I'll go to Norrington and I'll tell him your tale, no matter how far fetched it might sound," he told his father evenly. "But before we go, I want to know one thing; why did you stay here in Jamaica? What kept you in Port Royal?"  
  
At once, Bill's eyes burned and his throat ached from the sudden constriction he felt there. It was too much to hope that Will would know the answer to that question on his own. How could he really though, after all that had passed between them?  
  
"I stayed because you were here," he told Will softly, his voice unashamedly gruff with emotion.  
  
"But you chose not to reveal yourself to me, " Will replied accusingly.  
  
"For your own sake, son. I'm still a pirate, Will, and probably a wanted man. I had to stay away from you. I didn't want to bring that shame upon you, lad. Not with you planning to be married to the Governor's daughter and all."  
  
"But you've come to me now because you think I'm in danger."  
  
Bill nodded. "Yes, lad. But I'll keep my promise. Once I'm sure that you and Elizabeth are truly safe from this threat, I'll disappear for good," he said softly, his heart shattering like glass as he said the words.  
  
"We must hurry," Will replied gruffly after an awkward pause, avoiding his father's gaze. He unbuttoned his coat, allowing better access to his sword, one hand smoothing his unbound hair away from his face. "These streets are no longer safe to travel at night. You shouldn't be going about unarmed."  
  
"I left my rooms in a hurry," Bill admitted. "I didn't think."  
  
The two men stepped out onto the street in silence and Will pulled the gate behind them, inserting the key into the lock to secure it.  
  
"That's a good lad. Lock it tight. One never knows how long he'll be gone when he goes out for a midnight stroll."  
  
At the sound of that voice, Bill went rigid, his blood freezing in his veins with icy terror. Will whipped around instantly, his sword out of its sheath before Bill could react, and he took a step forward, positioning himself between his unarmed father and the group of men that had suddenly materialized from the side of the shop and now stood threateningly before them.  
  
"I'd come here lookin' for one Turner but instead I've got myself two," a burly man close to Bill's age said with obvious glee. "I'd 'eard you slept with the fishes, old friend. What a surprise to see you standin' here."  
  
Bill stepped around Will to face the other man, his son hissing in protest. "Stand down, Will. I know what these men want and now that they've found me, they won't be needing you," he said calmly. "Isn't that right Jeremiah?"  
  
The can called Jeremiah laughed heartily, the rest of his band of scoundrels and pirates following suit. "That's exactly right, old friend. We don't have no use for yer' whelp. Dag," he said to the huge bald man beside him. "Kill the boy."  
  
To be continued........  
  
Author's notes:  
  
I'd like to extend a huge thanks to all the people who reviewed my first chapter. The fact that people take the time to let you know they're enjoying your work makes the difficult process of creating a story all the more gratifying. I had considered replying to each reviewer individually but I thought that might come off a bit cheeky since I'm new here. For now, please accept my sincere and humble thanks;)  
  
***Thanks to MN Theis for reading and pointing out the grammatical errors in Chapter 1. I'm too lazy to take it down and make corrections but I have followed her suggestions so this chapter should have less mistakes!*** 


	3. Chapter 3

The Darkest Hour  
  
Author - Unplugged32  
  
Rating - PG-13  
  
Classification - Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)  
  
Summary - Will's past threatens his future. Can Jack stop what fate has set in motion?   
  
Email - unplugged3232@yahoo.com  
  
Disclaimer - Obviously, the characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.   
  
Authors notes and reviewer replies - at the end of the chapter  
  
Chapter 3  
  
It was Will's instinct to protect his father that ultimately prevented the burly pirate called Dag from killing him outright. Armed with only his sword against the band of at least 8 men wielding deadly pistols and razor sharp daggers, Will knew in his gut that he didn't stand a chance. But never in his life had he been a coward. If he was about to die, he would do so in the same manner that he lived; with his pride and his dignity intact. With a mighty shove, Will pushed his father out of harms way, twisting his body towards the right as he did so, the shot that was meant for his heart falling just low of it's target.  
  
"William!!"  
  
A sharp crack was quickly followed by the acrid smell of gunpowder and a harsh gasp that Will thought might have come from his own throat. He stumbled, the sword in his hand suddenly heavy and cumbersome, but somehow he managed to right himself, his grip still firm on the hilt. In a fair fight they wouldn't have felled him so easily, he thought disjointedly as his free hand moved instinctively to the jagged hole just below his ribcage, his clammy palm ineffective against the gush of liquid that spilled freely through his fingers. Beside him, his father let out an anguished cry, his solid form moving protectively in front of his injured son.  
  
"Father, run!" Will managed to say, but to his disgust the words came out as little more than a soft croak.   
  
"If you kill my son, you might as well kill me now for I won't be taking you to the Isla de Muerta if my boy dies!" Bill cried out furiously as the man called Dag took a knife from his belt, no doubt to finish the job. "He hasn't anything to do with all of this! Leave him be and I swear on his life I'll take you to that cursed island."  
  
"Don't!" Will hissed angrily in protest, lifting his sword as high as his trembling arm allowed. Injured or not, Will had no intention of letting this rabble make off with his father without a fight. Before him, Jeremiah's weathered face broke into an amused grin at Will's hopeless attempt to keep his hand steady as he advanced, the pirate's sword out of it's sheath in an instant to clash heavily against the boy's blade.   
  
"Call him off, Bill, if you want his life spared," Jeremiah warned, his next swing nearly sending Will to his knees.   
  
"I'm begging you, lad, let it go!" Bill urged frantically. "Do it for Elizabeth, if for nothing else."  
  
Around him, the street tilted and blurred, the hole in his side steadily pumping precious drops of warm, sticky blood down his belly, soaking into his breeches, his strength fading with every beat of his pounding heart. Will's breath came in sharp, torturous gasps as the initial numbness slowly faded, giving way to agonizing waves of pain that spread like fire above and below the gaping wound. He could barely stand, let alone parry with his opponent yet he made one last valiant stand, his sword coming down with all the strength he had left, but the pirate Jeremiah met his swing with a force that sent Will's sword clattering loudly onto the wet cobblestones.   
  
"Yer' done for, boy. Now be a good lad and don't interfere." Jeremiah told Will, calmly replacing his sword into its sheath. Stunned, Will could only stare at him with eyes that burned with hatred and an unfamiliar sting that blurred his rapidly fading vision as two of the pirates grabbed Bill roughly by the arms and tied his hands tightly, pulling his cloak around him closely to hide his bonds. Will tried to protest, to make them stop, but to his horror he realized that he couldn't. He no longer had control over his body, his brain refusing to send the proper signals to his limbs and he swayed, his knees slowly collapsing beneath him until he hit the ground with a force that knocked all the remaining breath from his lungs.   
  
With the impact came a sudden flood of pain so severe it sent rivers of agony running throughout his entire being. Time ceased and Will was no longer capable of coherent thought. All around him, the world had gone still, the darkness that beckoned enticing him like a siren's call. All he had to do was give in to its lure and he'd be free of the torture that wracked his shivering frame. But something stronger than his desire to succumb to oblivion held him tethered firmly to consciousness. A voice. Familiar, endearing, comforting. His name. Someone called him name. William. No one ever called him that. Only his father. That's what he'd always called him. When he was a small boy his mother would tease her husband, saying that William was too big a name for such a little boy. But Bill always said that William was the name he'd given him and that's what he'd call his son.   
  
"Don't close your eyes, lad," his father whispered urgently into his ear. "Please, son, don't give up on me now! Think of Elizabeth and your new home and the wonderful life you'll have together."  
  
Will blinked, but his eyes stubbornly refused to clear. He could just make out his father's shadow hovering above him before he saw him brutally pulled away, the sound of booted feet against the cobblestones as the pirates retreated with his father in tow filling Will with an altogether different kind of pain. All the years of disappointment and loneliness and anger suddenly slipped away, leaving Will with that old familiar longing for his father's strong, comforting presence. His wound throbbed mercilessly, the pain excruciating, but nothing could compare to the agony of losing his father for the second time in his young life.   
  
He knew not how long he lay there, his life slowly draining out of his battered body and onto the muddy street, staining the cobblestones beneath him a dark, rusty red. Tired. He was so very tired. What had his father said? Don't close your eyes. Think of Elizabeth. His beautiful, passionate, wonderful Elizabeth, with her sun-kissed skin and her golden curls that shone like spun silk. He needed to get to Elizabeth. And to Norrington. He would help. Oddly enough, the Commodore had become a good friend despite their mutual feelings for Elizabeth and their obvious difference in social standing. He was a good man and he had always treated Will with respect. He was sure that Norrington would help him find Bill. He had to.   
  
The street was eerily quiet, the scant residents of the mostly commercial road all tucked safely in their beds, their windows and shutters closed tight against the foul weather of earlier. If they hadn't heard the ruckus of his confrontation with the pirates, they certainly wouldn't hear his pitiful cries for aid. Will knew if he wanted to help his father, he'd first have to help himself. Slowly, he turned onto his uninjured side and placed both hands flat against the ground, hoping to push himself upwards if his trembling arms would cooperate. On his first attempt, pain exploded anew, and for a moment he couldn't breathe from the force with which it hit him. Gasping, he took great gulps of air, filling his tortured lungs with oxygen until they eventually began to expand and contract on their own again. When he'd found his breath again, Will grit his teeth and stubbornly tired once more. With excruciating care, he finally managed to turn himself over onto his hands and knees.   
  
He remained like that for what seemed like hours, his head hung low between his arms, the damp, dark curls glued to his face, his eyes shut tight against the vertigo that threatened to send him crashing back to the ground. With the very last vestiges of his fading strength, Will forced himself upwards until he was sitting on his knees. All around him, everything began to tilt and sway, the darkened buildings around him bleeding together into one huge, black wall that seemed to close in on him. One hand instinctively went to his wound, his fingers instantly covered with the warm wetness that still flowed steadily from the jagged hole. Bracing himself for the onslaught of pain he knew would come, Will tried to stand.   
  
It was a valiant attempt, one fuelled by hope and determination, but unfortunately for Will neither of these sentiments, no matter how strong, could overcome the physical limitations brought about by the brutal reality that he was slowly bleeding to death. The ground came up to meet him with blinding force, and Will just lay there, stunned, no longer able to move or to feel or to see. In the distance, he thought he could hear voices; loud, angry voices, but he could not be sure. Nothing seemed real anymore. Nothing. Only his failure. He'd failed his father. And Elizabeth.   
  
But most of all, he'd failed himself.   
  
When the darkness finally came, Will sighed and welcomed it like an old friend.   
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
At the sound of the heavy brass knocker against the polished wood of the Governor's front door, Elizabeth Swann bolted upright in her bed, one hand going instinctively to the place at her throat where the Aztec medallion had once rested heavily against her smooth, ivory skin. It was a habit that time could not break. Once, it had been a comfort to feel it around her neck. The strange medallion had belonged to Will and wearing it made her feel like she always had a part of him close to her. Later though, when the truth of its origin was revealed, Elizabeth could only associate the wretched gold with fear and death and not with the boy she loved more than life itself. Will had long replaced that hateful pendant with a small yet beautiful token of his love; a tiny heart locket that contained a lock of each of their hair, tied together symbolically as they too were tied to each other. But the chain was delicate and the necklace too precious to lose, and Elizabeth had it tucked safely in its velvet box in her chest of drawers, waiting to be worn at special occasions and of course, on the day she would become his bride.   
  
The pounding persisted and Elizabeth quickly rose from the comfort of her warm bed and dressed hastily in her heavy brocade robe, her slippers nearly forgotten as she rushed from her room out to the landing that overlooked the main foyer. The Governor's butler, also in his nightclothes, his wig hastily placed upon his balding head approached the door with great caution, one of the kitchen boys beside him, a large polished stick in his thin, bony hand.   
  
"Who's there?" the butler called out suspiciously.  
  
"Lieutenant Graves, sir. I've been sent by Commodore Norrington to see the Governor on a matter of great urgency."  
  
"Elizabeth! What are you doing out of bed?"  
  
Elizabeth turned at once to see her father hurrying from his room towards the stairs, his robe tied haphazardly over his nightclothes, the look on his kind face worried.  
  
"There's an officer from the fort below father," she told him anxiously. "Send by Edward himself."  
  
"Well, whatever it's about, I'm sure it's nothing for you to concern yourself with," he told her gently, the thin smile on his face unable to conceal the apprehension she saw in her father's tired, hazel eyes. "Now go, please," he said sternly and he hurried down the stairs to meet with his unexpected visitor.   
  
Elizabeth let out an exasperated sigh, her arms crossing over her chest in vexation. She wondered when her father would finally see her as an adult and not as the helpless, obedient girl her he'd always hoped she'd be. Once the door to the study had been closed firmly behind the two men, Elizabeth made her way carefully down the stairs, mindful not to make even the slightest sound as she did so. Outside the heavy oak doors, Elizabeth could barely hear what they were saying but that didn't deter her. Instead, she moved even closer, pressing her ear to the finely polished wood, straining to make out what was being said.   
  
"....found by the night watch....badly injured....they brought him to the fort....asking for the Commodore."  
  
Apparently someone had been hurt, she realized, and taken to the fort. It must be someone important, because he father, from what she could hear, appeared to be extremely disturbed by the news.  
  
"My Lord, are you alright? Shall I call for your butler?" she heard Graves say worriedly and that was enough to make Elizabeth reveal herself. Her father's health was far more important than propriety or good manners. Without knocking, Elizabeth opened the door and strode confidently into the room without a second thought as to her state of dress. Graves immediately looked away, but something deep inside Elizabeth told her it wasn't her nightclothes that made him avert his gaze. Fear made her stomach clench and Elizabeth tried not to stumble as she hurried to where her father sat with one hand partially covering his face, his shoulders slumped heavily forward.   
  
"What is it father?" she asked breathlessly, falling to her knees in front of him. She reached to take his free hand in hers and was immediately struck by how cold it felt.   
  
"Elizabeth," He began slowly, his eyes suddenly filled with a sorrow she'd rarely seen in those hazel depths. "Lieutenant Graves has come to report some dreadful news."  
  
"Father, please don't try and soften the blow. Whatever has happened, please, just tell me," she pleaded, her heart beating so hard in her breast she was sure that Graves could hear it pounding all the way across the room.   
  
"There's been some sort of accident, my love. The night watch found Will injured outside his shop," her father explained gently. "They're saying it might have been a robbery. Bu they do not know. Will's keys were in the gate. It's all speculation at this point."  
  
"Father, is he dead?" Elizabeth asked dully. "If he is, it's best if you tell me now."  
  
The Governor let out a long breath. "No, love, he isn't. But his wound is grave. The surgeon hasn't given Edward any guarantees. I just don't know..."  
  
Elizabeth was no longer listening. She sprang to her feet and ran like the devil was at her heels up to her room, calling out loudly for her maid as she did so. She threw open her wardrobe and searched for her most serviceable dress and quickly peeled off her robe and the layers of nightclothes she wore beneath it. Her maid appeared just as she was pulling her hair back into a ribbon, the young girl's eyes wide with fear as she watched her mistress take her heavy wool cloak from its hanger and throw it over her arm.  
  
"I need you, Kerry. Mister Turner has been hurt and we need to get to him at once," Elizabeth told her firmly. "Get dressed and meet me at the back entrance immediately. And make sure you bring the box of herbs and medicines from the pantry. Go!"  
  
The young maid scurried out of the room at once, Elizabeth following directly behind her. In the hall, she found her father, his expression frantic as he took in her attire. "Elizabeth, please! The fort is no place for a young woman! Let me go and see what is happening and if he's well enough I swear to you I'll have him moved here immediately," he implored.   
  
"Father, Will is my betrothed. He needs me," she told him evenly, fighting to keep her composure. "If something were to happen to him, I think I should be at his side."  
  
The Governor paled instantly, as if hadn't occurred to him that the boy could actually die. "Go with Lt. Graves," he told her quietly. "I'll be right behind you."  
  
Elizabeth nodded, relieved. The fact that she and her father hadn't argued about her decision was a great weight off her shoulders. In her heart, she knew her father cared deeply for Will. Yet there was still a part of him that didn't approve of their match. For the sake of his only child though, he was, for the most part, pleasant and respectful towards the boy, on some occasions even outright friendly. But he'd accepted him mainly because he made Elizabeth happy and in the end, that was all he'd ever wanted for his daughter. Elizabeth knew all of this and although she desperately wished he could see past Will's humble background, his blessing was enough for her.   
  
With a hastily pressed kiss to her father's cheek, Elizabeth raced down the stairs towards the kitchen to find Kerry, calling out to Lt Graves who was still in the study to follow her. Every moment that passed was precious. Will needed her. And she needed him, she reminded herself. Without his love, his warm smile, his gentle touch, she was nothing, an empty shell, devoid of all the beautiful and wondrous feelings that Will had brought to life within her. From the moment they'd met, Elizabeth had known that her future would be intertwined with his. Even the slightest glimpse of him on the street had made her breath catch and her pulse race. But it was something so much deeper than simple attraction, so much more than girlish infatuation. It was a bond that Fate herself had created, uniting the young lovers through careful planning when the time had finally come for them face their destiny. On the night they'd rescued Will from the island and Barbossa's devious plan, Jack Sparrow had told Elizabeth something important, something he thought she should know.   
  
"I asked him how far he was willing to go to save you, lass, and he told me, straight as an arrow, he'd willingly die for you"  
  
"As I would for him," Elizabeth had replied simply and she'd meant it. Life without Will wouldn't be a life worth living anyway.  
  
"My Lady, Lt. Graves is waiting," Kerry told her gently as she entered the kitchen and found Elizabeth lost in thought, her hands gripping the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles had gone white. "Let me help you with your cloak," the younger girl said softly, wrapping the soft, woolen material around her mistress' slight frame but despite it's warmth, Elizabeth still felt bitterly cold.   
  
As she followed her maid outside where the footmen waited with her carriage, Elizabeth shivered, her heart longing for Will's strong embrace to make her feel warm again.   
  
To be continued............................  
  
Author's notes : huge thanks to: (in order of appearance on the review page) fr3dd13fan, Ibonekoen, MelanieKS, jazzmama, Faith22, Gadien Elf, u-ne-korn, Curious Dream Weaver, orlandolover31, Kay and GlimmergirlKLS (who emailed me) for your kind words. Your support makes writing this tale all the more enjoyable - thank you! Also, thanks again to MN Theis for pointing out my grammatical errors in chapter 1 - chapter 2 still had a few typos, and I'm sure you'll find some in this section as well, but you'll forgive me, right?  
  
Also, I've searched long and hard to find out Norrington's first name but to my frustration not one website has it listed:/ Hope no one minds I've christened him Edward - it seemed to fit;) 


	4. Chapter 4

The Darkest Hour  
  
Author - Unplugged32  
  
Rating - PG-13  
  
Classification - Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)  
  
Summary - Will's past threatens his future. Can Jack stop what fate has set in motion?  
  
Email - unplugged3232@yahoo.com  
  
Disclaimer - Obviously, the characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.  
  
Author's notes and reviewer responses - at the end of the chapter  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Commodore Edward Norrington stared tiredly at the still figure on the cot beside him, his back bent awkwardly in the uncomfortable chair one of his Lieutenants had hastily fetched for his use. The steady rise and fall of the boy's chest assured Norrington that he was indeed still among the living despite the ghastly state in which he'd been found by the night- watch earlier on. It was the second time in the boy's young life that fate had thrust him half-dead into Norrington's path, and the Commodore was beginning to think it was more than simple coincidence.  
  
Nearly nine years had passed since that portentous day that Will had been found floating in the sea, the ship carrying him and dozens of other unlucky passengers blown out of the water by vengeful pirates. Will had been just a child then, a quiet, frightened boy of thirteen without a home or a family, his future uncertain at best. Governor Swann had taken it upon himself to find the boy a place to live and an apprenticeship so that he could learn a trade and, eventually, make his own living. Norrington knew Will's life with the Browns hadn't been exactly ideal, but at least he'd had a roof over his head and a chance to acquire the skills that he'd need to survive when the time came for him to move on. The boy's patience and perseverance had not gone without reward, as Will had become a fine craftsmen, one of the best the Commodore had ever seen actually.  
  
Norrington sighed wearily, one hand going to the small of his back, his fingers rubbing absently at the ache at the base of his spine. It had been nearly three hours since Will had been found outside his shop, gravely injured in a pool of blood. At first, they'd thought him dead. A cart was brought to take his body to the magistrate but when they'd tried to lift him, Will had woken for the briefest of moments, mumbling something about pirates and Norrington, so the watch decided to bring him directly to the fort. More precious moments were lost when they'd tried to convince the guards to let them enter with the injured boy, and it was another half-hour before a doctor was found. Norrington himself hadn't been awakened until much later when, by chance, one of his Lieutenants recognized Will not only as the blacksmith, but as the Governor's future son-in-law. Furious to find the boy half-dead and being examined by a doctor that spent more time in the pub than in his practice, Norrington had summoned his own physician, commanding the knowledgeable surgeon to make a deal with the devil if need be, but under no circumstances was he to let the boy die.  
  
Who would have thought that Edward Norrington, Commander of the entire British fleet out of Jamaica, would be babysitting his one-time rival, a common blacksmith who'd quite literally stolen the woman he'd hoped to marry from right under his nose. And yet Edward hadn't moved an inch from the boy's side since the surgeon had gone. He tried to tell himself it was for the Governor's sake, and Elizabeth's of course, but secretly, Norrington had to admit he liked the lad. Will was a fine young man with a courageous spirit so rare that the Commodore couldn't help but admire the boy. The fact that Elizabeth had chosen Will had been painful at first, but after a time it became clear to Norrington that the young lovers truly belonged together, their bond far beyond anything he himself could have ever hoped to share with the Governor's vivacious daughter.  
  
Beside him, Will stirred and automatically Norrington half-rose from his chair until the boy settled once again into his deep, trauma-induced sleep once more. The infirmary was chilly, but the doctor had warned against covering Will too warmly lest a fever should come upon him during the night. Infection usually took at least twenty-four hours to set in but in the tropical climates where all manner of disease was rampant, one could never be sure. Infection could turn a wound septic in a matter of hours. With this in mind, Will's soiled clothes has been hastily cut away and tossed in the fire to be replaced by a clean pair of borrowed breeches and stockings, his torso bathed and left bare aside from the heavy bandaging around his ribs. The bloody sheets had been exchanged with fresh linens, their crisp whiteness a sharp contrast against the boy's dark hair and swarthy skin, but Edward could see that his face had already lost it's normal, healthy color, his cheeks blanched to a sickly pallor from the loss of blood.  
  
Luckily for Will, the surgeon had little trouble removing the lead ball from the wound, declaring that no vital organs had been damaged. After he thoroughly cleaned the jagged hole, he'd used sturdy black thread to sew the skin back together as neatly as possible. Throughout the entire ordeal, Will barely stirred, and at the time Norrington had considered this a blessing. But as he'd watched the experienced physician work, Norrington could tell that the older man was clearly worried about the boy's lack of response. After 10 years or service together, the surgeon knew better than to be anything other than candid with his superior. He simply did not know if the boy would survive this injury. Will had been lying unattended and bleeding heavily in the filthy street for far too long for him to be able to guarantee his recovery. For the boy's sake though, and for Elizabeth's as well, Norrington fervently hoped that the older man's fears would not come to pass.  
  
But Will's precarious condition wasn't Norrington's only concern. The boy had muttered something about pirates. The thought alone made the Commodore's blood run cold. Was it possible that pirates had actually manages to breach the port's security without raising the alarm? Or was it simply the ramblings of a delirious mind? Either way, someone had done this to Will. Norrington had immediately declared a state of general alarm and quickly dispatched troops over the entire island, searching for the man or men responsible for this heinous crime. In the harbor security had been doubled, and at present Lieutenant Gillette was grilling the harbormaster for information on each and every ship that had come in and out of Port Royal over the past 24 hours. But whether the culprits had been pirates or not, Norrington couldn't help but feel that Will hadn't been a random victim. His shop hadn't been touched despite the fact that keys were in the lock, an actuality that almost certainly ruled out robbery as a motive. The boy also had several coins in his pockets and a silver watch on a chain in his waistcoat, items that Norrington was sure would have been spotted at once by an enterprising thief. It was, he conceded, possible that Will had stumbled upon a robbery attempt and the culprits, in their panic had gone off empty handed, but somehow Norrington doubted that. The circumstances surrounding the crime disturbed him deeply, his intuition warning him that something far more sinister than a simple robbery was the reason that Will Turner had been shot and left for dead this night.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Elizabeth Swann disliked using her status as the daughter of the Governor of Jamaica as a means to an end. But tonight she did not protest when Norrington's entire staff willingly went above and beyond the call of duty to make her visit to the Fort as comfortable as humanly possible. Her arrival had come as somewhat of a surprise. Despite the fact that Graves had been dispatched earlier to inform the Governor of Will's unfortunate situation, it was obvious that no one actually expected the girl to come in the middle of the night to be at his side. It simply wasn't something that a young woman of her station did. Elizabeth though was no simpering miss who would be told what to do, no matter how scandalous her behavior might appear. Propriety and decorum were meaningless, empty notions that Elizabeth would never allow to come between her and her love for Will.  
  
The first thing that struck her when she saw Will lying motionless among the stark, white bedding was his appalling color, the healthy, sun-kissed glow she'd seen on his beautiful face just hours earlier gone only to be replaced by a sallow hue so terrifying that for one horrible moment, Elizabeth had feared she'd come too late. Against her will, she found herself sinking heavily into the comfortable wing chair that had been quickly appropriated from Norrington's office for her use. Around her, dozens of candles blazed, their flames dancing in a rhythm that made her exceedingly dizzy and for a moment, she shut her eyes tightly, embarrassed by her uncharacteristic loss of composure.  
  
"Elizabeth.my dear, are you alright?"  
  
Norrington's concerned voice was nearly her undoing, but she swallowed hard against the unwanted tears that welled and simply nodded, accepting the strong hand he extended, taking some small comfort from the feel of her cold fingers in his warm grip. Edward's friendship was a gift she'd always be grateful for. Especially since Elizabeth knew that she'd hurt him in no small way when she'd rejected him in favor if Will.  
  
"How did this happen?" she asked finally, her gaze once again fixed worriedly of Will's ashen face.  
  
Norrington sighed wearily and sank into a chair next to her. "I honestly don't know. I have troops all over the island searching for answers, but unfortunately, no one appears to have seen or heard anything that could be useful in our investigation."  
  
"He was at our house.I saw him earlier when Kerry and I took him tea. He said he needed to finish sanding the new planks the carpenter had fitted on the kitchen floor," Elizabeth said quietly, letting go of Norrington's hand to reach for Will's. "I told him to go home, but he wouldn't."  
  
Norrington nodded sympathetically. "He's stubborn, your young man," he told her gently. "I want you to know that he's been tended to by my personal physician, a man I trust implicitly. I've sent him to get an hour's rest but he'll be back shortly. I promise you Elizabeth, young William will receive the best care possible."  
  
"I'm sure he will, Edward. Thank you," Elizabeth replied with heartfelt appreciation. "Can I ask you for a favor though?"  
  
"Anything."  
  
"Can I have a few moments alone? I feel - I need a few moments to -"  
  
"Absolutely," Norrington replied without hesitation.  
  
In his usual efficient manner, Edward quickly arranged for Kerry to be taken to his office to wait and the guards outside the infirmary door now numbered four to provide both security and assistance to Elizabeth should she need it. The fire in the hearth was quickly rekindled and the water in the basin next to Will's cot replaced by an eager young marine who also brought a soft lap blanket for the Governor's daughter should she need it.  
  
"If you should need anything, anything at all, just ask. I'll return with the physician shortly," Norrington said kindly, dropping to one knee in front of her, taking her free hand in his once more. In his eyes Elizabeth could read a multitude of emotions that both heartened and saddened her, and at once she was struck by the familiar pangs of guilt that seemed to assail her every time she looked too deeply into his gaze. "I will find the person responsible for this," he said with conviction before he slowly let go and left her alone with Will.  
  
From behind her, the soft click of the closing door signaled to Elizabeth that she was finally on her own. In that instant it struck her that everything that had preceded that moment had seemed almost surreal, like some waking dream that suddenly melded into a frightening reality. Dozens of terrifying thoughts assailed her weary mind all at once like a sudden and violent storm, and on impulse she sprang to her feet and pressed her hand firmly over Will's heart, the slow but steady beat beneath her palm her last tether to sanity. Dark hair, damp and unbound clung to his face and neck and Elizabeth gently smoothed it back, using a clean piece of linen dipped in cool water to bathe his ashen skin. All the while, Will did not so much as stir under her loving ministrations, a fact that made her already breaking heart nearly shatter from grief.  
  
"Who has done this to you, my love?" she asked softly, a tear she could no long hold back rolling gently off the curve of her jaw to land silently against the side of Will's mouth. With her thumb, she wiped away the salty liquid from his face, stroking his strong jaw tenderly, the feel of a day's growth of his soft, youthful beard beneath her hand oddly comforting. Sadly though, aside from his appearance, Elizabeth knew there was nothing youthful about Will Turner. There hadn't been since the day they'd met. Thrust into a cold, harsh world on his own, Will had become a man years before his time. A fine man whose strength and courage set him apart from every other that she'd ever met. Seeing him like this, lying so gravely injured was almost incomprehensible to Elizabeth who had foolishly thought him to be invincible, sometimes forgetting that he too, like every other human being, would bleed if he were cut, would fall if he were conquered.  
  
Once, she'd willingly traded her freedom for his life. At the time, the only thing that had mattered was saving him. It was only later, on the voyage home from the Isla de Muerta aboard the 'Dauntless' that Elizabeth had fully realized the consequences of her choice. How did she possibly thinks she could marry another and forget about the man that made her heart sing and her soul come alive? Edward was certainly a fine and honorable man with the best of intentions, but Elizabeth knew that no matter how wonderfully he treated her, in time she would have grown to hate him, blaming him, undeservingly, for keeping her and Will apart.  
  
Setting the cloth on the bed stand, Elizabeth gently pulled the sheet up higher over Will's exposed torso, one hand going to his forehead to check for signs of fever. Thankfully, his skin was cool to the touch but she knew from experience that this was no guarantee he wouldn't be seized by a raging fever by morning. As soon as Kerry returned she would have the girl brew some strong, herbal tea to have on hand in case he woke. Throughout her adolescence Elizabeth had learned to use various local herbs and weeds for medicinal purposes by watching the servants and the local healers treat ailments and wounds by traditional methods. Her father had forbidden her from using what he called 'heathen nonsense' in his household but Elizabeth would not be deterred. As a result, the Governor's staff and close circle had come to rely upon her for remedies for everything from headaches to hair loss, the latter being one of the few ailments the young girl had yet to conquer.  
  
With a weary sigh, Elizabeth sank back down into the chair beside Will, his lax hand cradled lovingly in her palm. Tonight, her only concern was keeping him alive. But tomorrow she would demand that Edward move heaven and earth to find out exactly what had happened. He had already promised no less but she meant to keep him to his word. Already a multitude of theories had begun to take form in her tired brain, but few of them actually made any sense and none seemed to have the proper motive attached. Even the robbery theory seemed weak, despite the fact that it appeared to be the most popular at the moment.  
  
For a brief moment Elizabeth's troubled thoughts unwittingly traveled back to their dangerous adventure of months before, wondering if there was even the remotest possibility that this incident could some how be related. She knew for a fact though that Barbossa's entire crew had been hanged for piracy, the captain himself killed by Jack Sparrow before her very eyes. Could someone be out for revenge? Was some angry relation or mourning lover out to punish Will and subsequently her and Jack and everyone else involved for bringing the notorious pirates to justice? The thought made her blood freeze in her veins, her fears for Will's safety growing tenfold at the possibility that his would-be assassins might return. And what of her father and Norrington? If her theory was correct they too could be in imminent danger. With great care not to disturb him, Elizabeth gently let go of Will's hand and hurried to the door, pulling it open with such force that it startled the officers stationed on the other side, their expressions anxious at Elizabeth's obvious distress.  
  
"I must speak with the Commodore immediately. It's urgent," she told them hastily. " Mr. Turner's safety may be at stake."  
  
Without the slightest hesitation, one of the trusted Lieutenants hurried to do as the lady had requested while the other three prudently rechecked their pistols and swords, assuring Elizabeth that neither she nor Will would come to any harm while in their care. Grateful, Elizabeth smiled weakly, their presence some small comfort at least. Maybe she was simply being paranoid, but she wouldn't be taking any chances with is life until Will himself could tell them exactly what had happened. Closing the door firmly behind her once more, Elizabeth returned to her vigil beside Will, her thoughts once more straying to Jack Sparrow. The man was rogue to be certain, but still, he'd saved her life, and Will's, more than once over the course of those few days they'd been thrown together. Their debt to the infamous pirate had been repaid in full upon their return to Port Royal and Jack disappeared then, never to be heard from again. If this had anything to do with Barbossa, Jack was certainly in danger as well. The idea was disturbing despite the fact that Elizabeth was sure that Captain Jack Sparrow could take care of himself. Still, she had grudgingly grown to like the man and she knew for a fact that Will considered the eccentric pirate to be a friend. If anything were to happen to Captain Sparrow she had no doubt that the news of his demise would greatly sadden both her and her betrothed.  
  
Norrington's arrival with an anxious Kerry in tow interrupted her troubled thoughts, and Elizabeth sprang from her chair, meeting him half way.  
  
"Pirates," she said breathlessly. "Is it possible?"  
  
Norrington, his face slightly flushed from his obvious mad dash across the compound, just stared at her wordlessly, his eyes betraying what his voice had not yet told her.  
  
"What do you know, Edward?" she asked slowly, a knot forming in her breast as she waited to hear the truth. "Don't lie to me," she warned, " We've been friends far too long for that."  
  
Norrington nodded, one hand absently rubbing at the dark stubble on his jaw. "Will said the word 'pirates'. Nothing more. I swear on my honor, Elizabeth. I've already taken all the necessary measures to ensure your father's safety as well as the safety of all the residents of the island.  
  
"Why in God's name didn't you tell me this earlier? I cannot believe you'd keep this from me!" she hissed angrily. "The man I love may die. I think I deserve to know the reason why!"  
  
"You're absolutely right. I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I thought I was protecting you," he told her quietly, obviously contrite. "I simply did not want to add to your grief."  
  
"Do you have any theories at all? Could this be connected to Barbossa or Jack Sparrow? Have you had any news of Jack, by the way? News that could help us make sense of all of this?"  
  
"Elizabeth, calm yourself! Everything you've mentioned has crossed my mind, I assure you. But unless Will wakes and tells me what I need to know I prefer not to endanger more lives by chasing shadows," he told her firmly. "And as for Jack Sparrow, well, last I head he was still out there, but fortunately not wreaking more havoc than usual. Running stolen good mostly, but there haven't been any reports of him or the "Black Pearl" involved in any violent crimes, thank God. Otherwise I swear I would have gone after him personally."  
  
"You misunderstand me, Edward. I do not suspect Jack of this deed. Jack would never harm Will, or any of us here in Port Royal for that matter. I doubt that he's done half the things that have been credited to him actually. If anything, he too may be a possible victim if this has to do with revenge," Elizabeth said wearily, accepting the cup of tea that Kerry had hastily prepared over the fire in the hearth.  
  
"I wouldn't worry overly much about Jack Sparrow, my dear. He's cheated death more times than is natural. He can surely take care of himself," Norrington sold her sardonically. "What I need from you though is to stay here and look after Will. Everything else is my concern. I thought you'd have more confidence in me," he told her with a ghost of a smile on his tired face.  
  
"I do, Edward," Elizabeth replied softly, her eyes suddenly filling with unshed tears. "Forgive me if I've insulted you in anyway."  
  
"You haven't. I understand your frustration and your fears but you need to trust me," Norrington told her firmly. "I'll even go so far as to send a message to Captain Sparrow's.friends on Tortuga that he may be in danger if that will appease you but for now, just take care of Will. Until he wakes, there is little else we can do."  
  
"Of course you're right, Edward."  
  
Norrington nodded and squeezed her hand lightly. "The physician will be back soon. Go sit with him.he needs you now," Edward told her, a slight catch in his voice. In his eyes, Elizabeth could swear she saw a brief flash of pain but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared and she simply nodded, her heart once again swelling with gratitude. She was truly blessed to have a friend such as Edward at her side. It was a great comfort, especially since deep in her heart, she feared she would need him now, more so than at any other moment in her life.  
  
To be continued........  
  
Author's notes: Well, if you've seen the deleted scenes on the DVD then you'll know that Norrington's first name is actually James. But it's too late. I've already named him Edward and I'll stick with it;) Many thanks to : MelanieKS, Curious Dream Weaver, jazzmama, Orlandolover31, Kay, Seaspray and GlimmergirlKLS for taking the time to read and review - you can't imagine how much each and every comment means to me!! 


	5. Chapter 5

The Darkest Hour  
  
Author - Unplugged32  
  
Rating - PG-13  
  
Classification - Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)  
  
Summary - Will's past threatens his future. Can Jack stop what fate has set in motion?  
  
Email - unplugged3232@yahoo.com  
  
Disclaimer - Obviously, the characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.  
  
Author's notes and reviewer responses - at the end of the chapter  
  
Chapter 5  
  
In is dreams, Will was running.  
  
Across golden fields, and sandy, white beaches Will ran. He was running, faster than he'd ever run in his life, his lungs burning, his muscles screaming in agony, but he couldn't stop. If he did, they'd get away. And if they got away, he would fail. And if he failed---.  
  
"Father!"  
  
"Hush love, it's alright."  
  
A voice, soft, gentle, loving. A warm hand holding his own cold one. His mother? No. She was gone. Someone else dear to him. Someone that held his heart and his soul. Elizabeth.  
  
He pried his eyes open, blinking rapidly against the brightness, his lids feeling heavy, unnatural. He opened his mouth to speak her name but all that came out was a harsh croak, a low, pitiful sound that certainly could not have come from his own throat.  
  
"Just relax, Will. Let me help you drink this."  
  
Her hand, steady and gentle lifted his head slightly, and he drank from the cup brought to his lips greedily, the cool water soothing, relieving. To his dismay though, the cup was taken away all too soon and his head was once again laid back against the soft pillow.  
  
"Slowly, love."  
  
"Elizabeth?" he said finally, her name no more than a harsh whisper.  
  
"I'm here," she replied, squeezing his hand, reassuring him that she was real.  
  
"Where am I?"  
  
"At the Fort. Do you remember what happened?" she asked him tentatively.  
  
At the Fort. With Elizabeth. It made no sense. Nor did the steady throb in his ribs or the pounding in his head. His brain worked sluggishly to recall the events that had led up to his current state, but nothing came.  
  
"I can't remember," he rasped finally, a steady panic rising within him.  
  
"Don't worry, my love. It will come back to you," Elizabeth told him soothingly, but even through his pain, Will could tell her smile was forced.  
  
"Tell me what has happened!" Will insisted, "Why do I feel so strangely?"  
  
"You've been injured, my love," Elizabeth explained carefully, one hand stroking his face tenderly. "I don't know exactly how, but that's not important now. Just rest. I've added a draught for the pain to your water so you can rest easily. Sleep now. I'll be right here beside you."  
  
"Wait! I don't understand," Will whispered, alarmed. "Why can I not remember?"  
  
"It will come back to you, I'm sure," she said tentatively, "The surgeon will return shortly. He'll be able to explain it better than I."  
  
Unconvinced, Will was adamant. "Please, Elizabeth, tell me what you know. How long have I been here?"  
  
"Since last night sometime, it's past noon now so it's probably been 13, maybe 14 hours or so," Elizabeth told him. "I don't think I've ever been so frightened in my life," she admitted quietly, her eyes glistening with emotion. "I thought you might never wake up."  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered, suddenly feeling contrite.  
  
"For what?" she asked incredulously. "You've done nothing to be sorry for."  
  
"I'm sorry I've upset you. It pains me greatly to see you so sad, so tired."  
  
Elizabeth arched one brow. "Mr. Turner, are you implying that I look less than my usual perfectly groomed self?" she questioned sternly.  
  
Will felt his face redden and go hot with shame. "NO!" he said at once, mortified. "You look beautiful, as always, I was just worried and ---"  
  
"I'm joking, Will," Elizabeth told him with a crooked grin. "And you're lying. I must look a fright actually, but I don't care. All that matters is that you are alright," she said, squeezing his hand for emphasis.  
  
"Elizabeth, I---"  
  
"Shh, please Will, just rest. No more talking. Now close your eyes and I'll be here when you wake up. My father will be pleased to know you're doing better. He wants to take you home with us, where I can care for you properly---"  
  
'My father'  
  
Those two words. My father. Like a bolt of lightening it all came back to Will in a sudden rush of memory so fierce he cried out, the pain in his head intensifying to the point that he could not focus. He shut his eyes tightly, a low moan escaping his throat as he relived the horrifying events of the previous evening; his father's more than unexpected visit, the feel of hot lead ripping through his flesh, his hopeless duel with the pirate called Jeremiah.  
  
"Will! Please, calm yourself. You'll open your wound!"  
  
"Elizabeth," he whispered finally when the throbbing in his head had subsided to a dull ache. "Please, I need to speak with Commodore Norrington immediately," Will rasped urgently, struggling to rise from the cot. Up until that moment pain in his side had been persistent but manageable so he was fully unprepared for the paralyzing waves of agony that followed with his foolish attempt to sit. Will's eyes went wide and he gasped as he fell back down against the mattress with a soft thud, the pain effectively robbing him of his ability to breathe.  
  
"Kerry, call for Commodore Norrington and the surgeon at once.," Elizabeth commanded urgently, her voice surprisingly even despite the terror in her eyes. "Will, I know it hurts love, but you need to relax," she told him firmly as she bathed his face with cool water. "A few more moments and the draught I've given you for the pain will take effect."  
  
"No!" he protested weakly, his cold fingers wrapping around Elizabeth's wrist for emphasis. "Don't let me fall asleep. I must speak with Norrington first."  
  
"And you shall. I'm sure he'll be here straightaway. But if you re-injure yourself, you'll be in no condition to speak to anyone," she reasoned gently, carefully freeing her wrist from his grasp to take his hand in hers. "I'm as anxious as you are to get to the bottom of all of this Will, but not at the expense of your health."  
  
Spent, Will could barely keep his eyes open, let alone speak, his only response coming in the way of feeble squeeze of his betrothed's hand. Around him, the room began to fade into a haze of shadows and barely audible sounds that blended into each other until Will could not focus on anything aside from the steady throb of pain in his side and the low buzzing in his head. 'Don't close your eyes'. That's what his father had said the night before, but Will found it nearly impossible to comply.  
  
"Mr. Turner, can you hear me, son?"  
  
With great effort Will pushed his drooping lids open to see a vaguely familiar, concerned face staring down at him. Without his powdered wig and with a day's growth on his jaw, it took Will a long moment to recognize his visitor as Commodore Edward Norrington.  
  
"Pirates," Will slurred softly, already feeling the effects of the drugs Elizabeth had given him. "They've taken my father."  
  
Elizabeth and Norrington shared a confused look. "You're father is dead, Will," Elizabeth told him gently. "Barbossa killed him long ago, my love. You know that."  
  
"NO!" Will rasped, frustrated, "They came here---looking for me---he warned me and they took him in my place!"  
  
"Will, why did they come for you?" Norrington asked patiently.  
  
"To get to the Island. For the treasure. They thought I knew how. But my father came---and they took him instead. Commodore---Edward," Will said, pleading,, "You've got to help me."  
  
Edward frowned, his expression deeply troubled as he sank into one of the chairs beside Will's cot. "Do you know who these men were? Have you seen them before?" he questioned carefully.  
  
"No. One was called Jeremiah. My father said they were part of Jack Sparrow's crew before---" Will whispered, fighting to keep his heavy lids from drooping. "They were looking for him---Jack, but couldn't find him--- they came for me instead---"  
  
"So you're saying lad, that these pirates came to Port Royal to kidnap you, in order for you to lead them to the Isle de Muerta, is that correct?"  
  
Will nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat as visions of his father's resigned face once again invaded his weary brain. "They needed me or Jack, to take them there. They thought there was no one else---until they saw my father. Took him in my place," Will stated hoarsely. "I'm not mad, sir, and he's not dead. I swear it to you."  
  
"You're not mad, Will," Elizabeth assured him softly, one hand smoothing his dark curls back gently. "But you've been gravely injured. Rest, my love, and you can tell us more later." Her touch was like heaven, her voice more soothing than any sleeping draught and Will felt himself momentarily tempted to shut his eyes and give himself over to Elizabeth's loving ministrations. He blinked and saw her there, like an angel, hovering protectively at his side, assuring him that everything would work itself out. But deep in the recesses of his mind Will knew that wasn't true. Not if he couldn't convince Edward that his father was in grave danger.  
  
"My father is going to be murdered by pirates if we don't go after him," Will said very slowly to make himself understood, "Someone has got to help me out of this blasted bed because---"  
  
"Mr. Turner, you are not to move from that bed under any circumstances, do you understand? Now I am going to see Lt. Gillette. He has information on all the ships that left Port Royal last night. We'll see if any of them could possibly be the pirates you mentioned." Commodore Norrington said as he stood. "About this man who claimed to be your father---"  
  
"He was my father," Will insisted.  
  
Norrington nodded. "What name does he go by? Did he say where he's from?"  
  
"Bill Williams. He worked on the docks. The harbormaster might know more. I don't know anything else."  
  
"Alright. I'll return shortly. Don't move an inch from that bed, son, do I make myself clear?" the Commodore said sternly.  
  
"Wait, Edward, I'm coming with you. My father is still waiting in your office for news." Elizabeth said quickly, grabbing her thin shawl off the chair and wrapping it hastily around her shoulders. "Will, I'll be back at once. My maid, Kerry, is on the other side of the screen if you should need anything. Please, just try and relax, alright?"  
  
How could he relax when he knew his father's fate rested in his hands? He nodded in compliance though to appease Elizabeth, but when he heard the soft click of the door closing behind them, Will pushed the sheets down and tried once more to sit.  
  
Like with his first attempt though, the pain was crippling. His head spun and his side throbbed and for one horrible moment he thought he would vomit. Elizabeth's sleeping draught also left him weaker than a kitten. His limbs felt heavy and he found it almost impossible to coordinate himself. Yet despite all of this on his third excruciating try, Will managed to sit up fully on the cot. Breathing hard, he remained like that for a few moments while he tried to garner the strength to swing his legs over the side.  
  
In truth he had no idea where he was going and how he would get there, but lying in that bed like an invalid was doing his father no good, of that he was sure. A quick scan of the area around the bed revealed no other garments aside from the white breeches and stockings he wore, but fortunately his boots, now cleaned and shined, stood just a few feet away under the window. From behind the thin, linen screen that separated his bed form the rest of the infirmary, Will heard the maid, Kerry cough lightly and for a moment he froze. He'd almost forgotten about her. With excruciating care he turned his legs over the side and he reached out to the chair beside the bed for leverage, pulling himself to his feet by degrees, his teeth biting down hard on his lower lip to stop himself from crying out and alerting Elizabeth's maid. How he would get past her was another matter. Fist things fist, Will thought dizzily, gripping the chair back for support as he stood fully. Just a few more feet to his boots and then---  
  
"Will! What in the name of God do you think you're doing?"  
  
Will blinked hard and tried to focus on his betrothed angry face as she hurried towards him,  
  
"I'm going after my father," he said carefully with determination, right before his dark eyes rolled back in his head and he fell, with a loud thud onto the infirmary floor.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
On the deck of the Black Pearl, Captain Jack Sparrow lay peacefully on a makeshift bed of unused canvas beneath the clear, blue Caribbean sky, the last rays of the dying sun warming him against the slight chill in the late November air. Clad in only his boots and breeches, he locked his hands behind his head and let out a long, contented sigh. Anchored off Tortuga for supplies and a day or two of rest for his crew, Jack found himself in sore need of a few moments of peace and quiet himself. He was tired. Months of sailing and making much-needed repairs and improvements to The Black Pearl had left the pirate captain and his crew exhausted. Many things had changed in his life since reclaiming the Black Pearl and for the first time in a long time, Jack had to admit that he was feeling weary. Tortuga seemed the best, and the safest option, for a few days rest before embarking on their next voyage.  
  
Surprisingly enough, the idea of a night on the town in the port city seemed unappealing to Jack, a fact that both he and his crew found curiously odd. Tortuga was known to be Jack Sparrow's favorite haunt, a place where he was both welcomed and feared, a town where his friends were loyal to a fault and his enemies were careful to keep their distance. This evening though, Jack had felt none of his usual enthusiasm for the food or the drink or the lovely ladies he knew would be waiting for him in any of the numerous taverns he frequented. Instead, he'd opted to stay behind with the few crewmen who were standing watch over their beloved ship while discreetly keeping their distance from their curiously introspective captain.  
  
"You missed a fine meal at the Golden Lion, lad. Half the girls in the place asked after you."  
  
"And the other half fawned prettily all over you, I'm sure," Jack drawled to his first mate. "Tell me, what brings you back so soon, Mr. Gibbs? The sun hasn't even gone down yet. Are you ill my friend?" he asked with a hint of humor.  
  
Joshamee Gibbs let out a long sigh as he dragged an empty crate beside his captain and sat. "Something odd's happened. Something I thought I should share with you as soon as possible."  
  
Curious, Jack cocked his head slightly to meet the other man's gaze. "Something odd?"  
  
Gibbs nodded, one hand absently rubbing beard. "Very odd, Jack. More than one person told me that an old friend of yours was asking after you, and none too discreetly either."  
  
"Well, don't make me drag it out of you man, just tell the tale," Jack replied impatiently. "Who is this 'old friend' and what did he want with me?"  
  
Gibbs grimaced. "It were Jeremiah, Jack. And he was offering gold to anyone who could tell him where to find you."  
  
Jack's mouth twisted slightly into a ghost of a smile. "That bastard never gives up, does he," Jack said, unconcerned. "Well, should I be expecting him with pistols at dawn or will it be cutlasses at noon?"  
  
Gibbs shook his head. "Neither, Jack. He's gone. Has been since before we even came to Tortuga."  
  
"Gone? Pity. Well, there'll always be another opportunity."  
  
"Jack, he's gone to Port Royal. It seems you weren't the only person he was interested in."  
  
Slowly, Jack unlocked his hands from behind his head and sat up, pulling his loose, white shirt over his head before he replied. "Port Royal? Now who does Jeremiah know is Port Royal? Should I assume he won't be making a social call?"  
  
"He's gone after the boy, Jack."  
  
At once, Jack stiffened. He knew all too well what boy Gibbs was referring to. "Is there a specific reason for Jeremiah's sudden interest in Will Turner, Mr. Gibbs? It's no secret the man wants me dead, but what has the boy to do with it?" Jack asked carefully.  
  
"He wasn't looking to kill you, Jack. Not this time. With Barbossa gone that fool is boasting and bragging that he's going to make for the Island and the treasure he missed out on 10 years back."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And he needs to get there, don't he? The only people who know how would be you and your crew, and maybe the boy."  
  
"So when he didn't find me, he went after the boy, is that what you're saying Mr. Gibbs?"  
  
Gibbs nodded solemnly. "That's what I'm saying, captain."  
  
Disturbed, Jack's kohl-lined eyes narrowed as he considered his first mate's words. There was no use wondering how Jeremiah knew of the boy. Not many people hadn't heard the tales of the attack on Port Royal, the demise of Barbossa and Will and Jack's part in the whole affair. And since Jeremiah had known Bill Turner it would have been easy for him to put two and two together to deduct that Will was his former crewmate's son. All the more reason to think the boy would have knowledge of that island and its cursed treasure.  
  
"Are you absolutely sure about this, Mr. Gibbs? I mean, could it simply be a rumor or possibly speculation?"  
  
Gibbs shook his head. "There's no mistake, Jack. He mentioned the boy by name. Said he was headed straight for Jamaica, bold as brass."  
  
"That's balls for you, Mr. Gibbs. Did Jeremiah think I'd just play nice and show him the way? Or that Will would do the same?"  
  
"No, he probably planned to kidnap you, Jack, and force you to take him. And that's what I'm guessing he'll do to our young mister Turner. Only I'm thinking that he'll need leverage. With you, there would have been the crew or the Pearl, but with the boy, well, I don't need to tell you what I'm thinking." Gibbs said soberly.  
  
"Elizabeth."  
  
"It makes sense. Only the thing is, could Will actually make his way to the island? And what would happen to him and the girl if he couldn't?"  
  
"But what of Norrington? Is he such a bumbling fool to let the Governor's daughter or her betrothed be spirited away by pirates? I mean surely he wouldn't let it happen twice." Jack said with just the tiniest hint of humor.  
  
Gibbs sighed, his expression grim. "I don't exactly have the highest opinion of the Crown's navy, Jack. If Jeremiah wants to badly enough, he'll get past them, you can be sure of that. "  
  
Jack nodded slowly. "Yes, I agree. He seems to be quite determined, our old friend."  
  
"Determined to be sure," Gibbs replied. "You know, he's going to kill them Jack, either way. If he gets what he wants, their dead and if he doesn't, they're still dead and then he'll come for you until he finds you."  
  
For himself, Jack did not fear the likes of Jeremiah and his crew. He'd come across far worse in his day and survived to tell about it. But the thought of Will and Elizabeth in that scoundrel's hands made Jack's blood run cold. His first instinct was to head for Port Royal as soon as they could make ready to sail. But there were too many reasons not to do that. Norrington, for one, who would most likely clap them all in irons without even listening to their tale. And then there was a question of time. Gibbs said Jeremiah had already left Tortuga and was well on his way to Port Royal. Despite the Pearl's speed, it was highly unlikely they would make it to Port Royal if the other ship had more than a day's head start.  
  
"How many days ago did Jeremiah leave Tortuga?"  
  
"In town they're saying 3, maybe 4 days ago. Jack, there's no way we can catch him." Gibbs said grimly. "Look, I've know the pair of them since they were just children and it pains me greatly to think he's taken one or both of them, but I don't know what we can do."  
  
Wordlessly, Jack rose and strapped on his sword. It was true that it was likely that Jeremiah had already been to and left from Port Royal, but headed for where? Could Will chart the course? He highly doubted it. So now what? For all he knew the boy could already be dead, and Elizabeth too. There was of course, always the possibility that Jeremiah and his crew were safely ensconced in one of Port Royal's lovely jail cells, enjoying Commodore Norrington's warm hospitality. But from experience, Jack knew he couldn't lay his hopes on that theory.  
  
"Sounds like a wild goose chase to me," Jack said slowly.  
  
"Aye."  
  
"But that won't stop us."  
  
"Never has before," Gibbs agreed.  
  
"Right, then. This is how I see it, Mr. Gibbs. I owe young William and his dear Elizabeth my life," Jack began carefully, "And no matter how improbable it appears that we'll be able to intervene, I'm honor bound to at least try, so this is what we'll do. We'll chart a course for the Isla de Muerta, taking into consideration the route Jeremiah would have taken out of Port Royal and pray we're fast enough to meet them along the way. Jeremiah knows the general direction. If we can meet his ship before Will is called upon to chart the actual course, well maybe there's a chance we can save our young friends."  
  
"Aye, captain, but what if we run into anyone else along the way? Like your old friend Norrington? He's bound to go after any pirate who's dared to breach his waters and kidnap civilians."  
  
Jack waved one hand in dismissal. "Norrington doesn't worry me if we're on the open seas. The Pearl can hold her own against the Dauntless or any other ship the navy's got for that matter."  
  
There was a hint of uncertainty in Gibbs' expression but he wisely chose not to argue the point any further. "I'll get one of the men to go back into town with me, see if we can't round up the rest of the crew while you get her ready to sail," The older man as he got to his feet. "Let's hope that this time we can rid ourselves of that nuisance called Jeremiah once and for all"  
  
Beside him, Jack nodded solemnly, his dark eyes scanning the glimmering sea as if by some miracle the other ship would just appear before him. But Jack knew this time around there would be no phantom ships and no ghost stories. Jeremiah was a flesh and blood scoundrel of the worst kind. That's why Jack had left him behind the first time around. Who knew though that Barbossa and his men would end up being even more treacherous? All except for one man, of course. Bill Turner. The only man from his original crew who'd had the courage to stand up against Barbossa. Bill had paid dearly for his loyalty to Jack. And his son had come dangerously close to the same fate rescuing him from execution. Jack would always be deeply indebted to the both of them. Bound by honor and the unlikely friendship that he and Will shared, Jack Sparrow made a silent vow there and then to get to the bottom of this devious plot, no matter what the cost.  
  
He only hoped that when he did, it wouldn't already be too late.  
  
Author's notes : I'd like to apologize for the long delay - blame it on the holidays;) if anyone would like to know when I'm going to update, why I've delayed etc. please feel free to email me - my address is included in the headers. Also, if anyone would like an email notification when I update, you can either leave your address with your review or mail me privately. Huge thanks to: MelanieKS, Elle King, Kay, Seaspray, jazzmama, Enchanted Oasis, audrey and GlimmergilrKLS for reviewing chapter 4 and making me feel really special! 


	6. Chapter 6

The Darkest Hour  
  
Author – Unplugged32  
  
Rating – PG-13  
  
Classification – Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)  
  
Summary – Will's past threatens his future. Can Jack stop what fate has set in motion?  
  
Email – unplugged3232@yahoo.com  
  
Disclaimer – Obviously, the characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.  
  
Author's notes and reviewer responses – at the end of the chapter  
  
Dialogue-heavy chapter. Please don't run way screaming! It's necessary. You can't get from point A to point C without first crossing over the rocky terrain known as point B;) Oh, and plenty of Will-angst I hope!  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Dusk had come to Port Royal by the time Will Turner pried open heavy, sticky lids, his thoughts jumbled and scattered, his body a mass of screaming aches and pains, his mouth as dry as the far away deserts of his father's tall-tales of long ago. Around him, the room was bathed in shadows, a blessing since his eyes were slow to adjust, the pain in his head receding slowly, steadily to a dull throb that was more manageable in the twilight than it had been earlier with the harsh afternoon sun flooding the room.  
  
The chair beside his bed was empty, but Will was not alone. Voices, familiar and hushed filtered from the other side of the thin, linen screen that separated Will from he rest of the Fort's infirmary. Groggy still, Will strained to match voices with names, his weary brain working sluggishly to make sense of their urgent words.  
  
"I can't believe I'm hearing this from you, Edward!" Elizabeth hissed. "You have a duty to the citizens of this island!"  
  
"For the love of God, Elizabeth! Haven't you heard a word I've said?"  
  
"Yes, I have, and frankly, I'm very disappointed."  
  
"Disappointed that I won't commit a ship to go after the 'Renegade', which may or may not be a pirate vessel, to find a man who may or may not be Will's father," Edward said in an exasperated tone. "Elizabeth, at least 15 people who knew him swear they saw this Bill Williams board the 'Renegade' willingly. How am I supposed to justify sending a ship that is badly needed here after a merchant vessel that left this harbor with all its papers in order?"  
  
"Someone shot Will and left him for dead! Doesn't that count for anything? My God, Edward, do you plan to just do nothing?"  
  
"Elizabeth----"  
  
"If Will were some aristocrats son then I'm sure---"  
  
"Don't," Edward warned her softly. "I thought you knew me better than that. Will is a man I am proud to call my friend and you bloody will know it!"  
  
"Then prove it!" Elizabeth said firmly. "Send a ship after his would-be- murderers and let justice be done!"  
  
"I have a responsibility to thousands of people, Elizabeth, and no matter how badly it pains me to make such decisions my hands are tied! And besides, you said yourself that Will's father has been dead for years."  
  
"Last night you promised me you would not let this crime go unpunished." Elizabeth replied stubbornly. "Are you going back on your word, Edward?"  
  
"That's not fair and you know it!"  
  
"Months ago, aboard the Dauntless, right before we went back for Will, you justified your decision by reminding your crew that Will was a subject of the crown and therefore under your protection. Is this Bill Williams not under your protection as well? They shot Will, Edward, to take this man by force. Father or not, he is still in your charge."  
  
"Elizabeth, please---"Norrington implored simply, but she said nothing, her only reply a soft sound like a sob that pierced Will's ears and his heart and he cursed his weakened state a thousand times over. His head still hurt and his side ached, but Will could no longer lay idle while Elizabeth argued his cause. It was no easier than it had been before to rise from the bed, but at least now Will did not feel sluggish and drugged as he had earlier in the day. From the other side of the partition he could hear Elizabeth uncharacteristically weeping softly now, the sound eating away at his gut like poison, her sorrow and her frustration making him all the more determined to the lift the burden of his father's fate from her weary shoulders as soon as possible.  
  
With careful, deliberate movements, Will sat and turned his legs over the side of the bed, one arm braced against his injured side, the other reaching out for the back of the chair beside him. His progress was excruciatingly slow, but at least this way, he was not blinded by pain or assaulted by the lightheadedness that had sent him crashing, humiliatingly so, onto to the cold flagstones earlier. By the time he made it to his feet, his limbs shook and he could feel a warm wetness beneath his hand where it lay against his bandaged side, but still, he felt surprisingly steady. Slowly, he dragged his stockinged feet the short distance towards his betrothed, his mind set upon settling the matter at hand before it went any further.  
  
It was Elizabeth who noticed him first as she was facing towards where he stood unsteadily at the edge of the partition. Norrington, it appeared, hadn't even heard the younger man creep up behind him where he sat, slumped forward in his chair, his shoulders sagging in manner that astonished Will. He'd rarely seen the Commodore less than fully composed and his posture and the way he rubbed his jaw absently, deep in troubled thought, was unnerving.  
  
"Will!" Elizabeth cried out at once, rushing forward. Her eyes were red and her face wet with glittering tears, but the look of sorrow on her face was quickly replaced by astonishment and then finally, anger.  
  
"What are you trying to do? Kill yourself?" she hissed, reaching out to steady him.  
  
"Elizabeth, please," he implored softly. "I'm alright."  
  
Norrington looked up, his eyes widening slightly, but his expression was wry. "Why am I not surprised to see you standing there, Mr. Turner?"  
  
Will almost smiled at that; Norrington, apparently, had come to know him well. "Sir, may we have a word in private? I---there are some matters that I feel we need to discuss---"  
  
Elizabeth loosened her hold on his arm and turned to look him at him sharply. "In private, Will? I would think that after all we've been through there would be no more secrets between us," she said icily, her face set in a stony mask.  
  
Taken aback at her unexpected anger, Will blanched. "Elizabeth, I mean no harm, only to relieve you of this burden you have so bravely taken on as your own," Will replied softly, the tone of his voice echoing his hurt.  
  
"We are to be married, Will. Your burdens, as you say, are no longer your own. Everything that you do, every choice you make now affects the both of us," she replied firmly, the look in her eyes defiant, challenging him to say otherwise.  
  
"And while the two of you stand there and argue the point, I fear that Mr. Turner may fall flat on his face, effectively ending any and all conversations before they even begin," Norrington said dryly, rising to guide Will back to the armchair beside his bed.  
  
In all truth, Will hadn't realized how close he'd come to doing just what Norrington had so succinctly pointed out until he was once again sitting, his breathing somewhat labored from the exertion, his vision slightly cloudy as he watched Elizabeth sink down on the edge of the bed opposite him, her expression tight.  
  
"Commodore, I know it might seem like folly to go after this ship---the Renegade you said?" Will began slowly, "But in all honesty I was hoping you would help me."  
  
Norrington let out a long breath and leaned back against the windowsill wearily. "Will, you know I want nothing more than to help you, but I'm afraid I don't think I can. I have to answer to the Admiral, lad, and I don't think he'll be particularly pleased to hear that I've sent off a brand-new vessel in search of a mysterious dock-worker," he said, pausing slightly to add lower, "who may himself be a notorious pirate."  
  
"So you do believe that Bill Williams is my father?" Will said hopefully, pushing aside the stab of fear that crept up as Norrington pointed out the obvious connection between his father and his rather dubious former profession.  
  
"Will, I don't know what I believe. What I do know is that you are in no condition to be out of that bed. And I know that Governor Swann is beside himself with worry over the state of your health, and Elizabeth's, as she hasn't left your side for almost 24 hours.  
  
Frustrated beyond words, Will clenched and unclenched his fists, his ragged fingernails leaving deep marks against the roughened skin of his palms. "You can't mean to just let them kill him." he said finally, his voice devoid of all emotion.  
  
"Will---"  
  
"Because if that's the case, Sir, please tell me now so that I can make arrangements of my own."  
  
From the bed, Will heard Elizabeth's sharp intake of breath, but when their eyes met, she bit down hard on her lower lip and said nothing. He knew, without a doubt, she was aching to protest, but she would wait, bide her time to say what she would when they were alone. For that, he was grateful, and he was once again reminded of just why he loved her so much.  
  
"Oh for God's sake, Will! It's pure madness to think you can go after him on your own!" Norrington argued. "First of all you can barely stand, let alone sail! And where would you find a ship and a captain willing to go on this wild goose chase to begin with?"  
  
Norrington, of course, was right. "I am honor bound, Commodore, to at least try," he replied stiffly.  
  
"I've thought you rash in the past, too noble for your own good even. But I never imagined I'd think you a fool," the Commodore told him grimly. "To endanger your own life, and the life of others, on the ghost of a chance that you may be able to 'rescue' a man who abandoned you is certainly nothing less than foolish."  
  
Silence, heavy and thick hung in the chilly infirmary, the tension between the three of them a tangible thing. Unbidden, Will felt that old, familiar ache rise in his chest at Edward's words, their truth too blatant to deny. "You know, I've been angry at him for many years, and he probably deserves my anger," he began carefully, "but I am honor-bound to find him and see that no harm comes to him," Will stated evenly. "He went along willingly, in my stead. And I would not be a man if I simply let him be murdered in my place. If I have to sell my shop and possibly even my soul to find him, I will do so, this I swear.  
  
"Let me ask you something, Will, "Edward said after a long pause. "Do you think it's fair that you should throw away your future, possibly your life, over a mistake that he made? My God, boy, if he hadn't sent you that cursed piece of gold you never would have found yourself in this mess in the first place!" the Commodore said heatedly.  
  
"So you won't help me because my father made a mistake and not because you don't have the resources to do so," Will said accusingly.  
  
"I didn't say that! But I won't stand by and watch you throw your life away!"  
  
"Then help me! The 'Intrepid' is the fastest ship in your fleet. We can catch up. I'm sure of it! I will accept the responsibility of negotiating my father's release on my own. I have no desire to see innocent men injured or killed. I swear I'll take full---"  
  
"And you think that even if I do send the 'Intrepid' after the 'Renegade' that you will be going along? I might as well shoot you now, Mr. Turner, for you'll not survive the journey in your condition," Norrington said, exasperated. "Elizabeth, won't you say anything? Just minutes ago the pair of you were squabbling over making decisions and the like. What have you to say of all this?"  
  
"Edward, I doubt you really want to hear what my daughter has to say," Weatherby Swann said with drawn out sigh. "She's even more stubborn than her husband-to-be, I'm afraid."  
  
"Governor," Norrington acknowledged the new arrival with a slight bow of his head. Will turned slightly towards his future father-in-law, his apprehension rising at the long-suffering look on the older man's face. Elizabeth's father had been tolerant, even kind to the younger man since their betrothal, but he highly doubted the mostly conservative Governor he would rally his cause.  
  
"I was going to ask after your health, William, but if you're fit enough to argue with the Commodore, I'd say you were well enough to come home with us."  
  
Will swallowed hard, his emotions warring between his desperate desire to appease his new family and his duty to the man he once knew as his father. "It's very kind of you to offer, Sir," Will began slowly, the catch in his voice evident as he spoke, "but I'm afraid I can't."  
  
Swann nodded slowly, his expression slightly pained. "I feared as much."  
  
"Oh, for the love of God, enough with the theatrics! You're going home with Elizabeth, Will, even if I have to lock you in irons to make you do so!" Edward hissed, his patience clearly exhausted.  
  
"Lock him in irons, Edward?" Elizabeth said, finally breaking her silence. "On what charge?" she asked, one finely shaped brow raised in question.  
  
"For being a bloody royal pain in the backside, that's what charge!" Edward told her angrily. "And you as well! Do you want to see him kill himself, Elizabeth? Because if you do nothing to stop him, that's exactly what will happen. Am I the only idiot who is worried what will happen to this fool of a boy?"  
  
"No Edward, you're not," Swann said tiredly, "And because I know how impulsive my future son-in-law can be when left to his own devices," the Governor continued, his sharp gaze resting upon Will's ever-reddening face, "I am going to ask you, not as Governor of this island, but as a personal favor, that you send the 'Intrepid' to intercept the 'Renegade'."  
  
There was a moment when no one spoke, the Governor's request so startling it had effectively left the other three speechless. At a loss, Will looked towards Norrington as the other man's jaw tightened and he took one step forward as if to protest, but the Governor stopped him.  
  
"Edward, despite any misgivings you or I might have, the fact remains that this Bill Williams, whether dock-worker, pirate or priest for that matter, is under our protection. I'll deal with the Admiral. After all, my daughter's betrothed has been gravely injured by these men."  
  
"I'll be ready to sail in under three hours," Norrington said finally, his expression unreadable as he turned stiffly to go, but Swann reached out and took his arm, stopping him. "No, Edward, not you. You're needed here. Send Gillette. He's cautious enough to avoid a confrontation but possesses just the right amount of hatred for pirates to make sure this is done right. Besides, it was he who charted our course on our last unfortunate trip to that island. He's the right man for the job."  
  
"I must protest, Sir," Norrington said firmly. "This is my responsibility and mine alone. I'll see to it personally."  
  
"I will not allow you to leave this island under anyone else's protection," The governor insisted. "I trust no other with the safety of the citizens under my care, Commodore. Gillette will go, and that is that."  
  
"And I with him."  
  
All eyes turned now to Will, his pale face set in determination. "You cannot deny me this, Edward," Will said softly, with emphasis on the Commodore's Christian name, appealing to him as a friend to understand. "Short of locking me in the gaol, you cannot stop me. I'll find a way to go along."  
  
"William, please---" his future father-in-law began imploringly, but was cut off abruptly by Elizabeth.  
  
"Father, while it pains me greatly to watch Will sail after the 'Renegade', injured as he is, I fear it is not our place to stand in his way," she stated quietly as she stood, rummaging around on the bedside table until she found what she was looking for; the ring of keys to Will's shop and his living quarters. "Three hours you say, Commodore? That should be sufficient time for Will to eat and dress while Lt. Gillette readies his ship."  
  
Somewhere deep in his gut, Will felt uneasy, almost disappointed by Elizabeth's reaction. He wanted her support, needed it, but somehow he hadn't expected it would come so easily. He gave her a small, grateful smile when their eyes met, but to his great consternation Elizabeth immediately looked away, her mouth set in a grim line as she reached for her shawl. "Commodore, may I trouble you for an escort for my maid and myself to Will's shop? He'll need his own clothes and personal effects for the journey."  
  
"It appears as if I don't have much choice in the matter, do I?" he replied with barely concealed sarcasm. "Since I have somehow allowed the three of you to hoodwink me into this mad scheme I have no other option but to make the arrangements. I'm warning you though, Mr. Turner. If my surgeon finds you unfit, then it's the gaol for you. Somehow, the idea of seeing Miss Swann dressed in black before she evens becomes a bride disturbs me greatly." he said wryly. "Better you in irons than Elizabeth in mourning."  
  
"I second that, Commodore," Swann said gravely, taking Elizabeth by the arm as she too prepared to leave. "I understand your loyalty William, even commend you for it, but I won't let you take any unnecessary risks."  
  
Will could only nod, the lump that had settled in his throat seemingly too large to swallow. The last thing her wanted to do was hurt these people, the people he loved, but fate had already set the wheels in motion. As the three of them turned to go, Will slumped heavily in his chair, the pain in his side momentarily distracting him, and he bit back a groan, unwilling to let any of them see his weakness. He knew Norrington well enough to takes his threats seriously and he had no desire to find himself locked in a cell while the 'Intrepid' sailed away without him. With a heavy heart, he watched them leave, Elizabeth on her father's arm, silent and stoic, her head held high. Near the door she stopped and looked back towards him for a fleeting second. Will met her shuttered gaze with his heart in his throat, an eerie feeling settling in the pit of his belly as she turned away, leaving him to wonder just how dearly he would be made to pay for what he was about to do.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
It was nearly 10:00 when Will finally boarded the 'Intrepid', tired, weary and gritting his teeth against the dull throb in his side. The fact that 24 hours had already passed since Bill Turner had disappeared would not crush his hopes of finding his father alive. The 'Intrepid' had replaced the doomed 'Interceptor' as the fastest ship in the fleet and Will hung all his hopes on the fact that they not only had speed on their side but good sailing weather as well. Gillette had been informed by the harbormaster that the 'Renegade' had left port heavy with cargo, and unless they had unloaded it into the sea when they were far enough from Port Royal, the extra weight would greatly hamper her speed. This, along with the fact that the sea had been rough the previous night due to the storm gave Will a reason to believe that this journey was not just folly.  
  
On the deck of the 'Intrepid' Will pulled his coat around him tightly and sank back against the rail, his belongings in a plain burlap sack at his feet. Shifting slightly, the side of his booted foot knocked against the sack and Will felt it connect with something solid. Curious, he leaned down and took the bag in his cold hands, feeling around inside for the source. Aside for the clean clothes Elizabeth's maid had brought him earlier, Will hadn't given the bag a second thought until that moment. He'd just assumed that Elizabeth would have been sensible enough to put him a change of clothes and maybe a frayed length of ribbon or two for his unruly hair.  
  
What he found though surprised him. Elizabeth had supplied him with numerous shirts and breeches as well as a various array of personal items he never would have considered himself. But it was the well-worn box with Elizabeth's name scratched neatly across the top that confused him most. This was her 'medicine box', her supply of herbs and salves and tonics that he wouldn't have the slightest idea of how to put to use. Carefully unlatching the lid, Will opened it slowly, wondering if maybe she'd used the box for some other purpose. Nestled carefully inside however, was exactly what he'd expected to find; neatly wrapped bundles, small glass vials, tiny clay jars and strips of clean linen.  
  
Closing the box, Will carefully replaced it in his sack and let out a shaky sigh. Elizabeth. She hadn't come to see him off. The last time he'd seen her actually was when she'd left the infirmary with her father, intent on retrieving his clothes from his shop. Her maid had nervously skipped around his question when Will had asked after her, but he hadn't pressed the girl. Instead, he'd waited as long as he possible could on the dock for her to appear but with time working against them, Gillette had rather curtly suggested that if he wanted to come along he'd better get on board before they sailed off without him. A thousand excuses for why she hadn't come crossed his mind except for the one he refused to consider. It was inconceivable that Elizabeth would turn her back on him for doing the right thing. It wasn't in her nature. She was too stubborn and too proud herself to ever judge him for being the same way. He simply would not believe that she'd deliberately stayed away. There had to be some reason, a very good reason, why she hadn't come back to the infirmary or to the dock to say goodbye.  
  
"Mr. Turner, sir."  
  
Startled, Will turned to see a young marine standing beside him, eyeing him worriedly. "Sir, are you alright?'  
  
Will straightened, biting back a soft groan as the movement seemed to jar all the hurts on his weary body. "I'm fine, really. Is there somewhere I can put this?" he asked tiredly, indicating his belongings.  
  
The marine eyed his strangely. "Of course, sir. In your cabin."  
  
Now it was Will's turn to appear surprised. "In my cabin? I---really, I can easily bunk with the rest of the crew. I certainly hadn't expected any special treatment---."  
  
"Commodore Norrington's orders, sir. Lt. Gillette has moved into the Commodore's usual quarters and you will have use of the Lieutenant's cabin. You'll be much more comfortable that way, with you being injured and all," the marine explained as he took Will's bag from his hand. "If you'll follow me?"  
  
Too tired to argue, Will trudged along behind the other man, the whirlwind of activity on deck and the noises of the ship being readied for their voyage merging and blending into a dizzying kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that suddenly left Will feeling light-headed, and for one horrible moment, he thought he might vomit.  
  
"Mr. Turner----sir, should I call for the surgeon, sir?" the Marine beside him asked worriedly, taking Will's arms to steady him.  
  
'No," Will managed to croak, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat. "I---I just need to rest for a bit."  
  
"Here, watch your head sir," he cautioned as he guided Will to the steps that led below.  
  
Will followed the other man blindly, letting him lead him through the narrow passageway like a tired child, his head spinning so fast he put both hands over his ears as if by doing so he could keep it steady. He was dimly aware of the other man leading him inside a small, well appointed cabin, the sight of the bunk secured to the bulkhead across from him the only thing that he actually noticed. He let his coat slip off his arms and onto the floor as he made his way to the bed, sinking onto the neatly made mattress with a grateful sigh, not bothering to remove his boots as he did do.  
  
"I'm going to send for the ship's surgeon," the young Marine told him worriedly. "The Commodore said he'd have my head if I didn't look after you properly."  
  
"I'm fine, really," Will assured him drowsily. "Just tired, I promise."  
  
"But sir---,"  
  
"I just need to rest for a while, that's all. Please, no doctor." Will insisted, turning slightly to accommodate his bandaged side. "I'll be fine."  
  
"I'll be back in a bit to see for myself," the other man told him firmly, lighting one of the storm lamps from the candle he held.  
  
Too tired to answer, Will merely nodded and listened to hear the door click shut before he allowed himslef to relax. A shiver ran through his tired body and he instantly regretted removing his coat. The bunk had a warm blanket but Will was currently lying upon it and he hadn't the strength to rise and cover himself with it. Instead, he curled into himself tighter for warmth and let his thoughts drift. In his mind he pictured Elizabeth as she'd been the day before at tea-time, happy and teasing and wearing that dove-gray dress he'd always liked best. But that was before the pirates and before his father, and before the uncertainty he now felt gnawing at his gut. Groggy as he was, it wasn't lost on him that he might not ever see her again. If that was to be the case, Will wished he could wipe away the past 24 hours from his mind, leaving his last memory of her to be from yesterday, when she'd collected the tea cups and fine china plates and was ready to leave when she'd suddenly turned back and stretched up ever so slightly to press one tiny, last kiss against his heated cheek. That kiss and the hastily whispered 'I love you' that followed had lingered long after the Governor's carriage had rolled out of his sight, the place beside his mouth where she'd pressed hers tingling with a feeling he could not explain.  
  
Another shiver jarred Will from his fanciful thoughts and he groaned softly, wishing he had the energy to pull the blanket around him. But sleep beckoned to him, teasing him, slowly driving away all of his hurts and discomforts and he willingly gave himself over to the relief it so temptingly promised. When his lids finally slipped shut, Will could swear he felt Elizabeth beside him, covering him, soothing him, her lips pressed against his feverish face, soft and warm, just like yesterday.  
  
To be continued....................................  
  
*Author's notes: I was going to apologize for the delay but the truth is that I didn't have writer's block and I didn't procrastinate, and aside from the few crazy days around Mardi Gras, my schedule wasn't that hectic. It simply took me a long time to get it right, to sound exactly as I wanted it to. Hope it works for all of you as well;) Huge thanks to everyone who bothered to leave a review; Seaspray, MelanieKS, Eledhwen, BM, Khava, EnglishMystic, CuriousDreamWeaver, Jazzmama, Crys, Ladyluna and Kay. Each and every comment means so much to me. I'm not too lazy to reply individually but I feel slightly embarrassed to do so. I've said this before; it makes me feel a bit cheeky, and I can't really explain why:/ Just PLEASE know that you all have my deepest gratitude.  
  
**To all you Jack fans: Jack DOES play a big role in this story. You just have to bear with me. I've actually had some of his scenes done for ages, btw, and I hope you won't be disappointed;)  
  
***Thanks to Mel and Holls for having a look. Mistakes are mine, of course.  
  
****There is a line here, where Elizabeth reminds Norrington of something he said aboard the 'Dauntless'. "Months ago, aboard the Dauntless, right before we went back for Will, you justified your decision by reminding your crew that Will was a subject of the crown and therefore under your protection. Is this Bill Williams not under your protection as well?" The source for this line is on the DVD in one of the deleted scenes, just in case anyone was wondering. 


	7. Chapter 7

The Darkest Hour  
  
Author – Unplugged32  
  
Rating – PG-13  
  
Classification – Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)  
  
Summary – Will's past threatens his future. Can Jack stop what fate has set in motion?  
  
Email – unplugged3232@yahoo.com  
  
Disclaimer – Obviously, the characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.  
  
Author's notes and reviewer responses – at the end of the chapter  
  
Chapter 7 – Part I  
  
Of all the impulsive things she'd done in her life, Elizabeth Swann knew without a doubt this was by far the most reckless and potentially dangerous decision she'd ever made.  
  
That didn't matter though now. Nothing did actually, aside from the man who lay on the bunk beside her, his lean frame shivering against the chill that plagued him despite the stuffy warmth of Lt. Gillette's cabin. She'd feared this, expected it almost, but hadn't considered that Will would be any place other than in a clean, comfortable bed in her father's home when it happened. Despite the fact that he'd appeared well enough earlier, Elizabeth knew from experience that in the tropics even the cleanest of wounds tended to fester, infection racing through the body rapidly like poison no matter how well cared-for the patient might be.  
  
Letting out a ragged sigh, Elizabeth tucked Will's coat closer around him, knowing that she'd have very little time before someone came to check on him to do some doctoring of her own. There was no hot water of course, but she poured what was available from the covered pitcher on the small desk into a glass and added a few drops of liquid from one of her clearly marked vials. This concoction would help with both the pain and the fever if only she could get him to drink it. Placing the glass on the floor beside her, she knelt once again at his side and reached out to brush a lock of stray hair from his heated forehead.  
  
"Will. Wake up, my love, please," she whispered urgently near his ear. "You're ill and I'm here to help you."  
  
Will stirred, mumbled something she could not discern, but did not wake.  
  
"Come on Will, we've no time to waste!" Elizabeth insisted, patting his face gently. From what she'd heard earlier from her cramped hiding place in the cupboard, whoever had escorted Will to the cabin was planning on returning and although she knew her presence would be discovered sooner or later, she preferred it be later, much later, when Will was in better health. There was no telling how far Lt. Gillette would go to keep them apart for the sake of propriety, no doubt though to save his own neck from Norrington's wrath and not out of any real concern for either Will or Elizabeth.  
  
"Will, my love, open your eyes," she coaxed firmly. "You have to do this...for me."  
  
Slowly, Will shifted his head turning slightly towards her, his lids fluttering as if trying to open, and Elizabeth took his hand and squeezed it, urging him to wake with her gentle touch and her soft voice.  
  
"That's it, darling, wake up for me," she whispered, a shaky smile forming on her lips. "Let me see those beautiful brown eyes of yours."  
  
"Elizabeth," he breathed finally, his lids still at half-mast yet she was greatly relieved that he appeared to recognize her.  
  
"It's me, darling. Did you honestly think I'd let you go off on an adventure without me?" she told him teasingly. "Listen to me, Will.. You must drink this; you have a fever and it will help you," she explained slowly, bringing the glass to his lips. Her other hand slipped under his head, helping him to lift it just enough to swallow most of the liquid before she took the glass away and helped him settle back.  
  
At once his lids slipped shut again but that didn't bother her for the moment. She needed to see the wound and it would probably be easier to tend to it if he were asleep. If it were infected, as she feared, cleaning it and dressing it would be painful. Careful not to jar him, Elizabeth slowly lifted away the coat she'd so carefully tucked around him earlier, her heart twisting as she saw him shiver and try to curl into himself for warmth.  
  
With time working against her, Elizabeth unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt and swiftly cut away at the bandage that was wrapped around his torso with a small knife from her box of medicines. Will shifted, a soft moan escaping his throat as she removed the linen pad that was pressed against the wound and Elizabeth bit down hard on her lower lip when she saw what was below.  
  
Two stitches had come apart and the flesh around the neatly sewn-wound was now angry and red. Thankfully, there was no other discoloration, no liquid oozing from the open area, a sign that although it did appear to be infected, the wound hadn't actually festered. She quickly retrieved a vial, clay pot and strips of bandages, working swiftly to clean the area and apply the healing salve, bandaging him as best as she could without his cooperation.  
  
All the while, Will slept. Occasionally a shiver would wrack his weary frame or a soft moan escape his lips, but other than that, he barely stirred. Again, this did not worry her overmuch. He was exhausted and feverish and sleep was the natural course of things when the body was trying to heal. When she'd finally dressed him once again and covered him with a warm blanket she'd found in the cupboard, Elizabeth hastily packed away her medicine box and replaced it in Will's sack with the rest of his clothes. When the cabin was completely clear of her presence, she checked Will's forehead once again for fever, greatly relieved to see that her draught was already working to lower his temperature.  
  
Although she'd been expecting it, the knock at the door startled her, and for a moment she panicked, her feet suddenly heavy as scrambled towards the cupboard and fit herself inside. It was no easy task, actually, as Elizabeth's long legs barely fit, even bent at the knees, but somehow she managed to squeeze herself in and shut the door behind her just before she heard two pairs of booted feet enter the cabin.  
  
It was difficult to hear exactly what they were saying, their voices obviously low in deference to Will who still slept, but snatches of their conversation drifted through the cupboard doors and reached her straining ears.  
  
"...appears to be sleeping quietly..."  
  
"Maybe a touch of fever, but probably nothing to worry about..."  
  
"...no blood on the bandage, sir...check back in the morning..."  
  
They remained longer than Elizabeth had hoped, the doctor obviously checking Will over thoroughly, the fact that he was the Governor's son-in- law to-be and a personal friend of Norrington's apparently making the man overly cautious with his charge. She could barely hear them now, but from the few words she could make out there were discussing his care for the remainder of the night.. Evidently, the man who had accompanied the doctor would check on Will in a few hours, and then the surgeon himself would come first thing in the morning. It would be tricky, keeping herself hidden with people coming and going as they pleased but at least it seemed that neither of them planned to stay with him. When she finally heard the voices fade away and the cabin door shut firmly behind them, she let out a long sigh of relief and cautiously let herself out of the cupboard.  
  
On the bunk, Will continued to sleep soundly, his rest disturbed only by an occasional shiver as his body fought the fever that plagued him. Weary to the bone, Elizabeth knelt beside him and rested her head upon the mattress, careful not to disturb him. This is madness, she thought worriedly, and not only because of Will's condition. She was no stranger to pirates...not anymore...and no matter how careful and experienced she knew Gillette and his crew to be, she had a feeling that no good would come of this voyage. It hadn't been easy to escape her father's watchful eye or Norrington's loyal lieutenants, but not even God himself would have been able to keep her off the 'Intrepid' this night, not with her beloved aboard, and not with the sick feeling of foreboding that had plagued her from the minute Will had insisted he was going along.  
  
"Why are you always so bloody impulsive?" Elizabeth questioned tiredly, wondering if she was asking Will or herself that question. They were exactly alike in that way, both acting without thinking when it came to matters of the heart. She would have him no other way though, she admitted reluctantly. It was one of the qualities that made him Will Turner.  
  
It was with this thought that Elizabeth Swann's tired eyes drooped shut, all sense of danger and discovery fading away into nothingness, the sound of Will's even breathing lulling her into a deep, dreamless sleep.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
He wasn't sure if it was the soft rap on the door or the sharp gasp from beside him that woke him, but either way, Will Turner's eyes snapped open, a low groan of pain rising in his throat.  
  
"Mr. Turner? Sir, are you awake?"  
  
"Tell him to go away," an achingly familiar voice hissed in his ear and Will felt his heart drop into his stomach at the sound. Mary mother of God, it can't be... he was sure it had been a dream, a hallucination that his betrothed had come to him in the night. Surely she could not be real....  
  
"Will, answer him or he'll open the door!"  
  
Nodding dumbly, Will automatically complied. "I'm fine," he croaked, the words barely audible from his fever-dry throat. "I'll be with you in a moment," he added hastily, turning slowly until his eyes met Elizabeth's piercing gaze, his heart sinking even lower into his belly as his suspicions were confirmed.  
  
"Sir, the ship's surgeon has asked that I check on you...could I come in for just a minute?"  
  
It was the young man from the night before, Will registered sluggishly, the one who'd helped him to the cabin. The one that Norrington had assigned as his babysitter.  
  
"I need a few moments, please," Will rasped, his voice only marginally stronger now but it seemed to do the trick.  
  
"Alright, I'll be back shortly."  
  
Beside him, he heard Elizabeth let out a long sigh and she sank back down to her knees, letting her head fall against his shoulder. "Thank goodness," she breathed softly.  
  
"Should I ask what in God's name you're doing here?" Will asked sharply, his voice low and scratchy from sleep.  
  
"Looking after you," she replied evenly.  
  
"Did it even occur to you to consult with me before you decided to stow away?"  
  
Elizabeth slowly lifted her head, one delicate brow arched in question. "Did it occur to you to consult with me before you decided to chase after your dead father?" she replied defiantly.  
  
"He's not dead," Will replied dully, "but he will be if we don't reach him before that ships makes it to the island."  
  
"And so will you be if you don't take care of yourself," Elizabeth told him flatly. "That wound is infected, Will. You had no business leaving Port Royal in this condition."  
  
"I'm fine! It's just a scratch...really..."  
  
"A scratch? You fool, it's a pistol wound and for you information two stitches have come undone and it's infected. You had a fever all night."  
  
Will gaped at her, genuinely surprised. "I feel fine, I don't have any fever."  
  
"Only because I spent the entire night at your side, taking care of your ungrateful hide," Elizabeth retorted. "But it will be back, of that you can be sure. I need to see the wound by the way. Do you think we can stop arguing long enough for me to change the dressing?"  
  
Will frowned. "I'm sure the surgeon can do that. Besides, won't he notice if the bandages are fresh?"  
  
"Probably. But I doubt very much that we'll make it to the Isla de Muerta and back to Port Royal without anyone noticing me."  
  
She was right, or course. And the thought that she would be discovered froze the blood in his veins. To far from Port Royal to turn back, Gillette would be livid, no doubt locking her in a cabin for the rest of their journey no matter what Will might say. She was an unmarried and unescorted female on a ship full of men. In his place, Will himself would probably be forced to do the same thing. Even Norrington, who tended to be overly indulgent when it came to the pair of them, would not have allowed them to stay together. Yet in light of the dangers that lay head, Will vowed that no one would keep Elizabeth from his side. There wasn't a man alive, aside from Norrington and maybe, he admitted grudgingly, Jack Sparrow, that he trusted aside from himself to keep Elizabeth safe. And while there was still breath in his body that's exactly what he intended to do.  
  
"Help me up," he told her quietly.  
  
Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise. "Why? I told you I want to see the wound first."  
  
"Please?"  
  
Eyeing him suspiciously, Elizabeth slid one hand under his back and helped Will to sit. He felt weak as a newborn kitten as it shamed him to ask for her assistance but what he needed to do could not wait.  
  
"While you look rather fetching in my clothes," Will told her wryly, "Is there any chance you've brought a dress?"  
  
"No...why? What are you thinking, Will?"  
  
"That's a shame," he told her with a sigh, pointedly ignoring her question.  
  
"Will Turner, what in God's name are you on about?" Elizabeth hissed angrily. "Why is it a shame that I don't have a dress?"  
  
"It's a shame because it looks as if you're about to be married wearing my Sunday best and your scruffy riding boots," Will informed her evenly. "Put on my jacket and let's go and find the Captain. The sooner the better, I say, because it's nearly dawn and I may not be much of a sailor but I can guarantee you we'll be upon the 'Renegade' with our wedding vows still ringing in our ears."  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
For ten long years Jack Sparrow had been forced to remind himself daily of the virtues of patience. With no other choice in the matter, Jack had learned the hard way that good things really did come to those who wait, a philosophy that eventually became ingrained in every aspect of his existence. Never again would he make a decision on a whim or rush into a venture without cautious consideration for its outcome. Life had taught him many lessons and Captain Jack Sparrow was smart enough to never make the same mistakes twice.  
  
Today was one of those days though that Jack was ready to toss aside that carefully cultivated patience, to push the 'Black Pearl' to her limits in order to reach the Isla de Muerta before any harm could come to the two headstrong youngsters he'd unwittingly become overly fond of. Standing alone at the helm of the 'Pearl' in the soft light of daybreak, Jack almost chuckled aloud as he considered the bizarre effect that Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann had over his jaded heart. Their selfless heroics and deep love for each other reminded Jack that among the misery and the bleakness of human existence there really were individuals worth risking your life for.  
  
In all honesty, Jack knew he was chasing shadows. There was no solid proof that Jeremiah and his crew of miscreants had ever reached Port Royal, had actually managed to kidnap either Will or Elizabeth and were now headed toward the Isla de Muerta. All of that was irrelevant though. He had no way of corroborating facts and no time to spare trying anyway and for the first time in many years he was acting solely on his conscience, letting his heart guide him instead of his brain, a notion that he would have scoffed at just a few months earlier. True, it was also a matter of honor; a debt he owed to the young lovers for saving him from the noose, but in his gut Jack knew he would have gone after them no matter what. It was as simple as that.  
  
When they'd left Tortuga, Jack had expected grumblings from his crew, despite their staunch loyalty to their captain. He'd been prepared to offer ample compensation for this trip that would prove not only unprofitable but dangerous as well, but to his surprise, it hadn't been necessary to offer any extra incentive. There were a few initial complaints about cutting their revelry short but once the lot of them sobered up, everyone, to a man, and a woman of course, had agreed to go along without argument. Some saw it was the honorable thing to do, others, like Jack and Gibbs, had found the couple had grown on them, while other still were simply fueled by the desire to rid the waters of the scoundrel Jeremiah, who sailed under the cover of legitimacy while wreaking havoc and pinning the blame on other crews.  
  
"You're up early."  
  
"Actually, I'm up late," Jack replied, turning slightly to see a sleepy Anamaria beside him. "You know I never sleep, luv. Things happen around you while you're sleeping. You know, freak storms, pirates, mutiny...things like that."  
  
Anamaria chuckled. "As if any of us could get even one man to turn mutinous against you. Although Lord knows, I've tried."  
  
Jack's mouth twisted into a devilish grin. "I bet you have."  
  
"Yes, but they all say the say thing; who is stupid enough to be captain in your place? And that's where I lose them," she replied with a dramatic sigh and she moved closer, linking her hand with his in an affectionate way that only she dared. Many women had shared the bed of Captain Jack Sparrow but none had ever shared the intimacy that existed between Anamaria and Jack. Their relationship was a complex one, built on respect and friendship and even though sparks flew every time they were in the same space they'd never become lovers, preferring instead this game of cat and mouse they both so obviously enjoyed. The verbal sparring, the sexual innuendo and the lewd banter kept the fires that burned between them blazing but neither of them seemed willing to risk what they shared. Not for the moment at least.  
  
"I was wondering," she said quietly, letting his hand slip from hers, "just exactly what our plan is, if and when we meet up with the 'Renegade'."  
  
"Well, ideally, we'll find then before they reach the island, at which point I'll shout across at Jeremiah to please return dear William and or the lovely Elizabeth straight away. Once the children are safely returned to the bosom of their loving pirate family I will gladly give him the correct coordinates to the Isla de Muerta where Jeremiah and his crew will steal the cursed gold and, without the knowledge to break the curse, will remain damned for eternity and suffer horribly and painfully."  
  
Anamaria frowned, fiddling with the rosary she always had in her pocket. "Ideally, yes. But unless God himself comes down and gives you a hand you know that won't happen. So what's your realistic plan?"  
  
The amusement slowly fled Jack's face, his eyes darkening as he considered her question. "To be honest? I don't know. We're going into this blindly. I have no idea what will happen. All I know is that I won't willingly endanger the crew. This was my idea and my responsibility and no one aside from me will be taking any risks unnecessarily. Savvy?"  
  
"Jack..."  
  
"I'm on a roll, luv, let me finish. If anything should happen to me by the way and there is a chance to get our young friends to safety without losing the crew and the 'Pearl', promise me you'll do so."  
  
"Enough, Jack! It's bad luck to talk like that," she told him angrily. "Nothing is going to happen to you. And we're all in this together...of our own free will."  
  
Jack shook his head slowly. "Free will? There is no free will, luv, only Fate and just as Fate sent Bill Turner into my path so many years ago, She's seen fit to thrust his son into it now. Look, so you know, the 'Pearl' is yours, with a percentage to be split with Gibbs and then the rest of the crew. The papers are in the chest in my cabin. If Fate has deemed that I should meet my demise at the hands of Jeremiah, sail her well and don't forget me."  
  
"I'm warning you, Jack..."  
  
"It's morning, luv, and we're dawdling. We have things to do, don't we?" he asked cheerfully, pointedly changing the subject.  
  
"This ship runs like the finest clock and you bloody well know it. You should get some sleep...you look ragged, Jack," Anamaria told him sternly.  
  
A slow grin spread across Jack's face and he took two steps closer. "Will you be joining me in my bunk, luv?"  
  
"In your dreams, Jack," Anamaria retorted, slightly breathless, taking a hesitating step backwards.  
  
"Oh yes, luv, you're right. Every night, in fact. If you don't believe me, you should come by my cabin early some morning and see for yourself just how much you torture me in my sleep."  
  
Anamaria's eyes widened considerably. "Sometimes you forget I'm a lady, Jack. That was downright disgusting...even for you."  
  
Jack tried to look contrite but he couldn't help teasing her further. "That's the problem, luv, I just cannot forget that you're a lady. Every inch of you is so perfectly..."  
  
"Alright, you win. Enough," she hissed, eyes flashing but not only with anger Jack thought with a satisfied smirk. One day...maybe not today, but one day, their time would come. And when it did, it wouldn't only be about pleasure. Of that Jack was certain.  
  
"Come on then, luv, we have work to do, lives to save, that sort of thing," he told her with a crooked grin, offering her his arm.  
  
Anamaria sighed wearily and slipped her arm through his. "Just make sure you don't get yourself killed in the process. That would take all the fun out of it."  
  
To be continued...  
  
Authors notes: I wanted this chapter to be longer, I really did, but it just wouldn't happen for some reason:/ I was really sad to notice that I seem to have chased off even my most loyal readers with chapter 6. I'd be dishonest if I said my ego hasn't taken a bruising as a result but mostly, I was hoping that anyone with comments on that section would take the time to email me with their constructive criticism. I'm always open to suggestions and improvements so if you're reluctant to leave a review, please feel free to contact me at: unplugged3232@yahoo.com  
  
I'd like to thank Eledhwen, potcfan, jazzmama, Trinity Day, That's Very Interesting and Mel for leaving a review for the previous chapter. Your kind words mean more to me than you could ever know;)  
  
I'll be going away for Easter so I've set a goal to update twice before then – let's hope I can get it done!  
  
Oh, and I've also changed the format slightly for easier reading I hope;) 


	8. Chapter 8

The Darkest Hour  
  
Author – Unplugged32  
  
Rating – PG-13  
  
Classification – Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)  
  
Summary – Will's past threatens his future. Can Jack stop what fate has set in motion?  
  
Email – unplugged3232yahoo.com  
  
Disclaimer – Obviously, the characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.  
  
Author's notes and reviewer responses – at the end of the chapter

The Darkest Hour – Chapter 8

Nearly three hours after Will's startling discovery, five people had gathered in the cabin normally occupied by Commodore Norrington to take part in the most bizarre wedding ceremony any of them had ever attended.  
  
With the unsmiling bride dressed as a boy and the groom so pale it appeared he might keel over at any moment, the 'Intrepid's' kindly captain tried his best to move the ceremony along as quickly as possible. Will looked positively awful, his clean white shirt stained red where blood had leaked through the bandages on his side, his dark eyes over-bright from fever and exhaustion. Captain Jennings highly doubted the young groom would have been able to remain on his feet if it wasn't for the bride's tight hold on his arm and the soft words of encouragement she whispered gently in his ear.  
  
Standing up for the bride in her father's place was the seething Lt. Gillette, his face flushed red in a combination of anger and what Captain Jennings suspected might be a hint of jealousy, maybe contempt, but he couldn't be sure. The Lieutenant had reacted badly to the discovery of the young woman on board and for one horrible moment the Captain had feared he would come to blows with the injured boy, his apoplectic rage calmed only by Elizabeth's firm words of warning. She did not appear to be a haughty girl, but Jennings knew she was still the Governor's daughter and by the look in her eye and the tone of her voice the Captain concluded she was a force to be reckoned with.  
  
The groom's witness was young George Whitcomb, a boy barely Will's age who'd been assigned by Norrington to look after the injured blacksmith. The third son of an impoverished Baron, Jennings knew he'd enlisted in the navy in hopes of making a career of it. He was certainly taking his newest assignment very seriously, hovering protectively all morning over his charge until the future Mrs. Turner had politely, but firmly sent him away to allow Will a chance to rest before their hasty marriage would take place.  
  
The stark ceremony ended with a quick, awkward kiss, followed by the signing of the documents and then Captain Jennings watched worriedly as Will slid heavily into a chair beside the Commodore's desk, clearly spent. The lad looked frighteningly ill despite his bride's reassurances that it wasn't as bad as it appeared. Elizabeth mumbled a few words of thanks and with the help of George Whitcomb led her husband back to his cabin where the surgeon was waiting to examine his wound.  
  
"Not the most promising start to a marriage," Jennings told Gillette sadly when they were finally alone.  
  
Unmoved, the younger man's eyes narrowed considerably. "When a Governor's daughter weds a blacksmith of questionable lineage it is indeed a sorry start to a marriage," he replied with a sneer, his contempt for the lad now plainly stamped upon his arrogant face.  
  
Jennings' gaze darkened. "I meant something more along the lines of poor Mr. Turner being injured, Lieutenant. I think it's up to the young couple to decide if they're suited or not. I'm surprised at you, Gillette. But then maybe I'm not,' the older man mused as he exited the Commodore's cabin, smiling smugly at having had the last word.

"Sleeping beauty awakes," Elizabeth teased, "how do you feel?"  
  
Will rubbed the stickiness from his eyes and sighed. "Like I've been keelhauled. Or at least this is how I imagine it would feel."  
  
Elizabeth gave him a lopsided grin. "I doubt that, but then again I've never been shot or keelhauled. Here, drink this."  
  
Will lifted himself slightly and with Elizabeth's help drained the contents of the cup she held. "More of your voodoo medicine?" he questioned as he eased back onto the pillow.  
  
"It's for the fever," she replied, lifting his shirt to have a look at his bandages. "No staining, that's good," she remarked, "In a day or two, if you keep still, you should be good as new."  
  
Will nodded, his expression darkening as he suddenly began to question his wife in earnest, not bothering to wait for an answer before pressing her with another. "How long have I been asleep? Any word from the Captain on the 'Renegade'? Has anyone else been to see you?"  
  
"In reverse order, no one, including Captain Jennings has been to see me so I have no news of the 'Renegade' and you've been sleeping peacefully since George and I dragged you back here after our rather unorthodox nuptials...about 7 hours or so I think."  
  
"Not exactly the wedding you expected," Will said with regret, his eyes searching her face intently as if he were trying to gauge her feelings.  
  
"No, it wasn't actually," Elizabeth agreed, pulling off her boots before sliding tiredly into the narrow bunk beside him. "Mostly though because I'd hoped my father would be by my side and not that horrible toad Gillette."  
  
Will's lips twisted into a wry grin as he shifted slightly to accommodate his new bride, allowing her to room to burrow close to him, her head coming to rest under his chin. "I'm sorry about that. I swear I'll make it up to you. As soon as we return we'll have a big, fancy ceremony and a huge celebration afterwards. With your father and Norrington as our witnesses as we'd planned."  
  
"I don't want to make a big fuss, Will. You know I never wanted that. A simple ceremony in my father's garden will do. And then we can have the reception in our house," she replied with a tired sigh.  
  
"But every girl dreams of a fancy party with all the trimmings. If your afraid we can't afford it I assure you I am willing to do anything it takes..."  
  
"Stop it, Will. This has nothing to do with money," Elizabeth said sharply. "I've been to enough fancy parties in my life to know that's not what I want. Look, enough about the wedding for the moment. You need rest. And before you know it that overzealous George Whitcomb will be popping in to make sure I'm taking care of you properly," she told him teasingly.  
  
Will chuckled weakly. "He'll get a right shock when he finds you curled up beside me."  
  
"I'm your wife, my love. Where else would I be?" Elizabeth replied somewhat breathlessly. Up until that moment Elizabeth hadn't considered their nearness in an intimate way. But despite the fact that it was indeed an inappropriate moment she could not help the flutter in her belly or the slight increase of her heartbeat as she became more aware of her husband's lean, muscled form pressed closely beside her.  
  
"Elizabeth."  
  
Lost in her thoughts the sound of her name whispered into her hair sent a jolt through her body. Will shifted slightly, pulling her closer to his uninjured right side, his head dipping lower so that he could look into her eyes.  
  
"I love you," he said softly, placing a tentative kiss just beside her mouth. The look of uncertainly on his flushed face made Elizabeth's heart clench painfully.  
  
"And I love you" she assured him against his throat, her lips tasting the warm, saltiness of his skin, one hand finding it's way into his dark, silky hair.  
  
Will made a noise deep in his throat and his mouth come down suddenly on hers, his kiss more urgent and demanding than any they had shared before. Overwhelmed by these new sensations that assaulted her, Elizabeth easily gave in to the desire that consumed them both, her awkwardness and inhibitions falling away as Will deepened the kiss, his body moving to partially cover hers, heightening the passion that flared between them.  
  
It was only when Elizabeth reached up to cup Will's cheek lovingly did sanity begin to return, the heat of his fevered skin against her palm like a bucket of cold water poured over her head. Reluctantly, Elizabeth forced their lips apart even as a soft moan of protest rose in her throat.  
  
"Will...this is madness...you're ill and surely you'll injure yourself further if..." Elizabeth told him haltingly, her face reddening with embarrassment as she tired to find the right words."  
  
Clearly disappointed, Will fell back onto the pillow with a groan. "Ill or not I find I cannot fight this need for you that burns inside me," he admitted almost shyly as he reached to pull her back into his arms.  
  
"That's the fever you feel," she joked lamely, her heart still pounding loudly in her breast. "Besides, I need to change those bandages and mix some more herbal tea. You may be better but you're far from healthy."  
  
"Elizabeth, you checked the dressing not ten minutes ago. But I understand if you aren't ready," Will told her gently. "I must confess that I too feel slightly...anxious, and this certainly isn't the most appropriate place to um, well to consummate our marriage," Will finished on a whisper, his awkwardness endearing to his equally nervous bride.  
  
"I am ready, Will. And I doesn't matter if we're on a ship or in a bed or in a barn for that matter," she assured him with conviction, "I'm only afraid for you...not _of_ you."  
  
"I'm glad for that." Will shifted and reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips. "I'm sorry that this has happened, my love, so sorry that my actions have brought us to this moment, but I need you to understand that I do no regret what I've done."  
  
Elizabeth nodded. "I know."  
  
"I could never have just gotten on with my life without ever knowing what happened to him...my father. I would never have had a moment's peace. It was difficult enough before, when I thought he'd been killed my pirates, and then learning that he too was a pirate and..."  
  
"Will, I understand. You don't need to explain yourself...especially not to me. I won't lie and say I'm happy with the situation, but I don't blame you for it," his wife told him tenderly.  
  
"Thank you. I..."  
  
Whatever Will had planned to say was suddenly drowned out by a loud hiss and a sound like thunder coupled with a bone-jarring jolt to the ship that sent them both crashing to the floorboards with a sickening thump.  
  
"Elizabeth!" Will gasped, scrambling to where she lay dazed, his shirtfront once again bloodied and clinging to the wound on his side. "Stay down!"  
  
There was another hiss and more thunder, only this time it sounded closer and Will threw himself over her protectively, a low moan of pain escaping his throat as he did so.  
  
"Will, what's happening?"  
  
"Cannon fire," he gasped as the 'Intrepid' was rocked by yet another volley. Everything that wasn't nailed down came crashing to the floor around them and Will's soft grunt told her something had fallen on her husband, possibly injuring him further.  
  
'Will, are you hurt?" she cried anxiously, her heart clenching painfully when he did not reply at once. "Will, please, answer me!"  
  
"Elizabeth?" he rasped finally, rolling off of her clumsily. "Are you alright?" he questioned anxiously, his words alarmingly slurred.  
  
Elizabeth shook her head and pulled her trembling body to her knees, groping for her boots and Will's, hastily pulling them on and then helping her husband with his. "What should we do?"  
  
Dazed, Will did not respond. There was a deep, bloody gash on her husband's forehead and the wound on his side was now bleeding freely through her carefully applied bandages. More broken stitches, she realized sickly, but there wasn't time to worry about that now. They needed to get above deck as soon as possible. If the 'Intrepid' was about to be sunk they'd have to move fast to save themselves.  
  
"Will, come on, we need to go," she told him firmly, reaching for his hand. From the gun-decks , Elizabeth heard the roar of the 'Intrepid's' cannons as they returned fire and a tiny spark of hope ignited in her breast. Maybe things weren't as bad as she'd thought.  
  
"Miss Elizabeth! Mr. Turner, sir! Hurry, we need to get you out of here. We're under attack. It's the 'Renegade'. Bloody bastards opened fire on us as soon as we got close enough."  
  
Relief flooded her body when she recognized the young marine hurrying across the cabin. "George," Elizabeth said, the name escaping her lips like a sob. "Help me with Mr. Turner. He's not well," she told the boy anxiously.  
  
Together they helped the disoriented Will from the cabin and towards the narrow steps that led above. "You must do as I say, Miss Elizabeth, alright?" the boy told her firmly. "We're giving back as good as we're taking but we've suffered some heavy damage."  
  
"Yes, of course, just help me get Will out of here."  
  
George nodded and went first, pulling Will up behind him. Fortunately, Will had not lost consciousness and with the younger man's help he was able to climb the steps on his own. Right behind him was Elizabeth, her face draining of color the instant her eyes took in the scene topside. The 'Intrepid' had indeed suffered heavy damage, it's masts shattered and splintered over the deck, the ship already listing slightly starboard. Men in bloodied uniforms weaved through the mess of felled canvas and rigging, working quickly to lower the wounded to the boats that waited below. From the gun-decks the cannons continued to fire sporadically, the cries of the injured sailors drowned out by the sound of the ship's guns firing cannon- balls and grape-shot in a last ditch attempt to protect their damaged ship. The 'Intrepid' though was sinking, there was no doubt about it, and Elizabeth felt a terror like no other grip her heart. There was no way Will would survive this, not floating for days in a life-boat with no food or water or proper care for his wound.  
  
"Whitcomb, get these two into a boat now you bumbling fool!"  
  
Elizabeth whipped her head around to see Gillette striding quickly towards her, his perfectly coifed wig long gone, his sandy hair plastered to his face with sweat and soot, his uniform stained with blood and gore. No matter how much she disliked the man, there was no doubting his integrity as he simultaneously barked orders and stopped to help with the wounded, all of his usual haughtiness wiped away by the heat of the battle and his determination to save his crew. Coming to stand before Elizabeth their eyes met in a silent message of mutual respect as he thrust a sword in its scabbard into her hands as well as a pistol and shot and without saying a word, went back to organizing the chaos that was once his ship.  
  
From what little Elizabeth could see, the 'Renegade' had fared no better, her mainmast broken in two and her deck blanketed by a thick cloud of black smoke. From previous unfortunate experiences, Elizabeth knew that if the fire wasn't extinguished immediately the 'Renegade' would be blown out of the sea as soon as the flames spread below decks to the powder magazine. At once her thoughts went to Bill with sadness and regret, but after all her husband had sacrificed to see him safe it was difficult to keep the bitterness she felt in her heart at bay.  
  
"We need to go, Miss Swann...please," George implored, startling Elizabeth out of her reverie and she turned at once to where two marines were helping a dazed Will over the side and down the ropes to the waiting boats.  
  
"It's Mrs. Turner, George," she replied automatically, and the young man nodded solemnly, helping her over the rail to where her husband and their uncertain fate awaited.

With his head spinning and his body screaming in pain, Will clung to the rope precariously, his eyes fixed on the rail above him, searching anxiously for a glimpse of his wife. The two burly marines had practically dragged him over the side despite his insistence that they wait for Elizabeth. The blow he'd received to his head earlier had left him unable to think clearly but his concern for his wife's safety was instinctive, her absence from his side the reason he would not go any further even as the sailors in the boat below shouted for him to descend before it was too late.  
  
"Will! Go...I'm right behind you."  
  
The sound of her voice and a glimpse of her face as she slowly made her way down flooded Will's weary body with relief. He squeezed his eyes shut just for a moment, his hands gripping the rope tightly while he tried to steady himself, but this only brought more vertigo upon him and Will swallowed hard, his entire body trembling as he fought the urge to vomit.  
  
"Will! You must move down the rope or you'll fall!"  
  
Elizabeth. From the sound of her voice she was moving closer, but Will could not open his eyes or turn his head to see. The effort would be too trying. As it was it took every ounce of strength he had just to cling to the rope. How he was going to get down to the boats was something he could not even begin to consider.  
  
But it seemed as if fate had decided to make that decision for him. As Will continued to dangle precariously from the rope, the 'Intrepid' shook violently as it took yet another direct hit from the 'Renegade'. From beside him Will heard Elizabeth scream his name in terror just as he lost his grip and plunged into the swirling sea below.

The water was colder than he'd expected. Granted it was November but this was the Caribbean and Will had somehow thought the clear, blue depths would be balmier. But it was the cold that saved him, the icy water startling him, reviving him, and even before the hands that reached for him could pull him up, Will was already breaking the surface on his own.  
  
"Will! Thank God!" Elizabeth cried as she scrambled down the last few feet of rope and dropped into the waiting boat. Right behind her was George, the look of sheer terror on the boys face nearly making Will smile.  
  
"Take my hand, sir," one of the two young sailors in the boat urged Will as he made his way closer. Instinctively, he reached up to accept the other man's help when his eyes darted across to the 'Renegade' and it's burning deck and something inside Will snapped. His father. All this had been for his father, the loss of life and the sinking of the 'Intrepid' were about to become sacrifices made in vain. He looked back to where his wife knelt in the boat, her piercing gaze meeting his. He flinched visibly at the look of hurt and shock on her grimy face as she realized what he was about to do, the dread in her eyes too painful to look upon. Shaken, Will pulled his trembling hand free once more and started towards the 'Renegade', knowing deep in his heart it was what he had to do.  
  
From behind him, Will could hear their shouts of protest, Elizabeth's angry cries nearly turning him back, but the sight of the burning ship looming in front of him edged him on. His side ached badly, but at least the pain in his head seemed to have faded to a dull throb, the cloudiness that was there just moments earlier wiped away by the cold of the sea and his determination that all they had endured would not be for nothing.  
  
All the while, at least one or two cannons aboard the 'Renegade' continued their relentless bombardment of the 'Intrepid', the naval ship answering with an occasional volley of her own but Will knew it was only a matter of minutes before the once-proud vessel would be silenced forever. As for himself though, Will felt fortunate that luck seemed to be on his side...for the moment at least, as it appeared as if he'd gone unnoticed as he swam with increasing difficulty towards the burning ship. By the time he reached the 'Renegade's' stern however, he was out of breath and gasping in pain and feeling anything but lucky as he watched the crew scurrying down the ropes on the starboard side and into the boats that waited below. Fear, raw and painful gripped him, nearly paralyzing him as it finally occurred to him that he had no plan. He was unarmed and outnumbered and for all he knew his father could already be in one of the boats quickly rowing away from the doomed ship. Or worse, he could already be dead.  
  
The sound of something slapping against the hull startled Will out of his morbid thoughts and he looked up to see a length of rope almost directly above his head, it's heavy knots hitting the vessel's side loudly as the 'Renegade' shifted and swayed. Will took it as a sign, of what he was not sure, but he said a quick prayer for his soul just in case and reached for it.

"What do you mean we're not going after him!"  
  
"Begging your pardon, Miss, but that ship, if you hadn't noticed, is on bloody fire! Jesus and Mary, the pair of you are raving lunatics!" one of the two sailors cried angrily, "If he wants to get himself killed then he'll be doing it without us. I suggest though if you're wanting to go after your lover, you'd best start swimming," he told her smugly.  
  
Count to ten, Elizabeth warned herself, nice and slow. Otherwise she knew she would lose the control she'd been so desperately trying to keep a hold on. Beside her, George looked positively terrified, his boyish features gaunt and haggard, his anxiety shining brightly in his dark eyes. Across from her the other two men continued to glare at her as if she'd lost her mind, each holding firmly onto an oar, daring her with their stance to try and take them. Sick with fear for Will she nearly followed the angry sailor's advice, but as she stared into the gently rolling sea, contemplating the swim to the 'Renegade' it suddenly dawned on her she had one last card to play.  
  
Feigning defeat she turned away from the other two men, George scrambling to kneel beside where she sat at the back of the tiny boat.  
  
"Miss Elizabeth, I'm sorry...I..."  
  
"Do you trust me?" she hissed near his ear.  
  
Startled, George met her determined gaze and nodded solemnly.  
  
"Good, because no matter what happens I'm expecting you won't interfere."  
  
It all happened so fast even Elizabeth herself was amazed. Even though her whole body trembled, her hand was surprisingly steady as she pointed Lt. Gillette's pistol at the two startled sailors, the one that suggested she swim looking positively terrified of the determined young woman. Maybe it was the sword she held in her other hand but Elizabeth thought it might be the look in her eye as she met his wide, frightened gaze with steely resolve.  
  
"As I'm sure you've probably heard, I've dealt with far worse that the two of you. If you jump in now, you'll make it easily to that boat just a few yards to your left," she told them coldly. "George, I'll bear you no ill feelings if you choose to follow," she said evenly as the other two hastily dropped their oars into the boat and jumped into the sea.  
  
"Do you think Mr. Turner will have a job for me in his smithy after I'm court-martialed?" he joked lamely, picking up the discarded oars.  
  
Elizabeth stuffed the unloaded pistol back into her trousers and sat back with a weary sigh. "If we actually manage to get out of this mess alive, I promise you George, you will be promoted and not punished for your loyalty and dedication to the governor's daughter and her husband," Elizabeth told him with a ghost of a smile. She took the other set of oars form the bottom of the boat and the pair of them began to row towards the 'Renegade' in earnest.  
  
"Hurry, George," she told him firmly, "we need to find that husband of mine before he gets himself into any more trouble."  
  
To be continued....................

Authors notes:  
  
If it wasn't for the lovely and talented Elements this chapter and probably the entire story for that matter would have been trashed as I had considered hanging up my keyboard for good. Ele, cheers luv, this chapter (and the bloody rest of the story actually) is dedicated to you;)  
  
Huge thanks to the following people who took the time to leave a review of the previous chapter::  
  
RogueAngel – Your comments made me smile;) Glad you like the relationships between the characters because that was my goal; to write an interesting character driven piece and not just an action/adventure.  
  
Eledhwen – I wish I had more time and more energy to post more often, but thank you from the bottom of my heart for sticking with me and my sporadic updates.  
  
Elf Fanatic Lark – Your enthusiasm really made me happy. Thanks so much!  
  
Trinity Day – I was hoping people would like that section. Thanks so much for your lovely comments.  
  
Voy222 – No need to leave a fancy review. Just the fact that you bothered to leave your comments means the world to me!


	9. Chapter 9

Author – Unplugged32  
  
Rating – PG-13  
  
Classification – Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)  
  
Summary – Will's past threatens his future. Can Jack stop what fate has set in motion?  
  
Email –   
  
Disclaimer – Obviously, the characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.  
  
Author's notes and reviewer responses – at the end of the chapter  
  
Hugs to Mel for doing a quickie, on-the-spot beta  
  
The Darkest Hour - Chapter 9

No matter how desperately Bill Turner had wanted to see his son again, he certainly never wished to find him climbing over the rail of the 'Renegade', his dripping clothes torn and stained, a bloody gash upon his brow. Through the blanket of smoke that was quickly covering the 'Renegade's' deck, Bill watched horrified as his only child stumbled clumsily, one arm wrapped protectively around his waist as he rummaged through the litter of shattered wood and ripped canvas until he held a discarded sword in one hand and a piece of the broken mainmast in the other. Will had not yet seen his father being dragged roughly to the starboard rail by Jeremiah, his shackled hands and feet leaving him helpless to resist. Part of Bill wanted to cry out to him to go, to save himself before the doomed vessel would claim him as her victim, but he knew if he did it would only serve to alert the murderous Jeremiah of his son's presence.  
  
The deck of the 'Renegade' was nearly deserted now. What was left of her crew were already loaded into the boats below, the wounded callously left behind among the dead, once again affirming Jeremiah's reputation for ruthlessness. Beside Bill, Jeremiah's gargantuan first mate Dag was about to take his helpless prisoner over the side with him when an angry shout from behind them froze the three men in their tracks.  
  
"Unhand my father," Will cried out, his voice hoarse from the smoke and what Bill suspected was pain. His heart clenched in agony for his son. The sight of his foolish, brave boy challenging one of the most notorious pirate duos ever to walk the earth filled him with dread but he could not deny the fierce stab of pride he felt as well.  
  
Taking in Will's bedraggled and injured state, Jeremiah and Dag exchanged a look of amusement before they began to laugh heartily, the pirate Captain nearly doubling over with mirth.  
  
"Dag, kill him...but this time make sure your aim is true," Jeremiah told his first mate with a wicked grin. The bald pirate grunted and reached for his pistol.  
  
"No!" Bill cried out in anguish, swinging his shackled hands up towards the huge pirate's face, bloodying his nose and cutting his cheek with the rusted iron. Enraged, Dag let out a fierce roar and slammed Bill onto the deck with one swipe of his meaty fist, the older man falling like a rag doll under the murderous pirate's blow.  
  
"I've had enough of you, boy!" Dag cried out, blood and mucus rushing from his broken nose and he raised his pistol, aiming straight for Will's heart.

The sharp crack of a pistol rang out and Will flinched. Dazed, he looked down at his shirt for the telltale signs that he'd been shot but to his surprise he saw no blood nor felt the pain he knew would accompany such a wound. He lifted his gaze once more to where Jeremiah stood near the rail and his eyes went wide when he saw the huge first mate lying on the deck, a neat, round hole in his forehead leaking drops of blood and gore onto the deck. Stunned, Will whipped around, searching for his savior.  
  
"I'm a decent shot," George Whitcomb told Will with a shaky smile, Lt. Gillette's pistol still smoking as he stuffed it into his soggy breeches. Beside him Elizabeth held a sword in both hands, the menacing look on her lovely face startling even her husband.  
  
Relief, sweet and heady rushed through Will like a raging river. His wife was unharmed, his father still breathing and the scurvy coward of a pirate Jeremiah was already over the rail and half way down the rope now that his burly first mate could no longer fight his battles. His gaze turned back towards Elizabeth and he saw George rush forward, his young face marred with worry and fear, but he did not make it to the blacksmith's side before Will's knees buckled beneath him.  
  
"Come, my love, we need to go," Elizabeth urged, pulling Will back to his feet with George's help.  
  
"I'm alright," he complained irritably, ashamed at his weakness. Straightening, he stumbled to where his father still lay, unmoving. The fire was spreading at an alarming rate and if they did not get off the 'Renegade' at once Will knew the four of them were doomed.  
  
"George, you're going to have to lower my father to the boat...can you do that?"  
  
"I could, but you see the bloody boat is gone! That bastard Jeremiah has taken it and there are no others!" he told Will frantically. "Miss Elizabeth, can you swim?"  
  
"George, calm yourself!" Elizabeth scolded, coming to kneel beside Bill. "The crew of the 'Intrepid' shouldn't be far from us. If we can get Bill down the rope, we can swim to them."  
  
"Alright," Will agreed. "George, help me tie a rope around my father and Elizabeth and I will lower him slowly beside you. Can you hold him until we descend? Even if he does wake, he cannot swim shackled like this," Will told the younger man grimly.  
  
"And what of the pirates? What if they decide to come after us?" George asked worriedly. "I swore on my honor to let no harm come to you...the both of you, but I fear that unarmed and with no boat I will not be able to keep my word."  
  
"George you have done more than even the bravest and most experienced officers would have and I do not fear you will let us down," Will assured him with a hint of a smile. "Help me get my father to the stern. If we lower ourselves from there we may be lucky enough not to be shot as pirates by the 'Intrepid' and hopefully go unnoticed by Jeremiah's crew. I doubt though that they'll have stayed close enough to see us anyway. They know their ship will blow before she sinks," he finished grimly.  
  
It took the three of them to move Bill's dead weight across the deck towards the stern, Will barely able to stand himself, let alone carry his father. His side ached and he could feel blood from the reopened wound trickling steadily over his abdomen. The pain, the blood loss and the dull throbbing in his skull all began to take their toll on his battered body. Breathing hard, he fell to his knees beside the still unconscious Bill and with George's help, carefully secured a rope around the older man.  
  
"Are you ready, George?" Will asked solemnly.  
  
But before he could answer, a sharp gasp from Elizabeth turned both their heads up to where she stood, staring out at the sea, her expression dumbstruck.  
  
"Oh my God," she breathed, clearly stunned, "Will...it's the 'Black Pearl'."  
  
Beside her, George groaned aloud. "More bloody pirates," he said with defeat.  
  
Elizabeth's grimy face lit up. "Yes, George, more bloody pirates and thank God for them! Do you think you can swim towards the 'Pearl' with Bill? I swear on my life no one aboard that ship will harm you."  
  
George frowned. "Taking Mr. Turner's father isn't the problem, Miss Elizabeth, but in all honesty I hadn't hoped to ever cross paths with the crew of the 'Pearl'."  
  
"I'll not deny Jack Sparrow is a pirate and a rogue when he pleases but he'll not deny us safe-passage," Will interjected, hope flaring in his breast once again. "We stand a better chance aboard the 'Pearl' than floating around for days in a life-boat."  
  
"Will's right about that. Besides, Jack owes us. He won't hurt us, George," Elizabeth told him reassuringly. "When you hit the water, untie Mr. Turner and swim for the Pearl. Don't wait for us and don't look back, alright?"  
  
George nodded solemnly, some of the fear fading from his eyes at her words. George grabbed a rope and went over the rail waiting for Will and Elizabeth to haul Bill's unconscious body over as well. The boy grabbed onto the older man firmly and eased himself slowly down the hull, inch by inch, one arm around Bill the other on the rope as Will and Elizabeth carefully lowered the rope that held Bill. It was difficult to keep up the same pace, his hand sometimes slipping lower, dropping him below Bill until Will and Elizabeth could catch up, or vice versa. It seemed to take forever and at some point George thought he would not make it, his hand becoming chafed and slick with blood from the friction, the muscles in his arms cramping until the pain became almost unbearable.  
  
And then when it appeared as if he'd reached his limit, they were there, in the sea, but still not the slightest flutter of movement from Bill despite the contact with the chilly water. George quickly undid the rope around the older man, and took a long steadying breath to calm himself.  
  
"Go George!" Will cried out from above, pulling up the two ropes for him and Elizabeth. George didn't hesitate. He pulled Bill close, said a quick prayer for all of them and made for the 'Pearl' without looking back, just as he'd promised.

To be continued..................

Author's notes; This ended up being a very short chapter. It should have been three times the size but due to circumstances beyond my control I haven't had time to write in a long time. I decided that I would post it as is and start fresh, moving the rest of the scene to a new chapter now that I can finally continue. As of the last chapter I've decided to respond personally to reviewers because it's your kind words and encouragement that keep me posting.  
  
Ele – Thanks so much for your continued support; without you this would have been trashed long ago!  
  
Me – Yay! A fellow angst-junkie. Sorry for the delay; I'm hoping to update a lot sooner next time.  
  
EnglishMystic – Glad you're enjoying the story – thanks so much for taking the time to comment.  
  
Momma b – Thanks so much for your kind words – I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.  
  
Elf Fanatic Lark – Yes, Will never knows when to give up, does he;) Thanks so much for taking the time to comment.  
  
Rouge Angel – Hello, old friend;) Your support is one of the reasons I keep bothering – thanks so much for being there for me.  
  
Eledhwen – I am so pleased you like my Elizabeth! I am trying very hard to keep all my characters as close to cannon as possible. Thanks so much for your continued support,  
  
Trinity Day – Profound reviews are not necessary; just the fact that you took the time to leave a note means so much to me.  
  
Melanie – Your enthusiasm and your never-ending support means more than you could know. Thanks so much for always reading whatever I write;)


	10. Chapter 10

Author – Unplugged32

Rating – PG-13

Classification – Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)

Summary – Will's past threatens his future. Can Jack stop what fate has set in motion?

Disclaimer – Obviously, the characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.

Author's notes and reviewer responses – at the end of the chapter

The Darkest Hour – Chapter 10

In the back of her mind, Elizabeth Turner knew there was no time to tarry. But at that moment her exhausted body wasn't listening to her brain. Around them, the 'Renegade' continued to burn, the heat and the smoke making her gasp for air, and yet she found herself unable to move her leaden limbs. Beside her, Will had slipped wearily to his knees, his body sagging heavily against the rail. His pale face was streaked with sweat and soot, his breathing labored, and for one horrible moment, Elizabeth felt real fear coil in her belly.

"Come on Will, we need to go," she told him firmly. Forcing aside her own exhaustion, she offered him her hand. "Fate seems to have once again thrown in our lot with Jack's...let's go and find out what mischief he's been up to these past months," she said lightly, carefully concealing her growing terror beneath her teasing words.

Will coughed and shook his head as if to clear it, leaning heavily on both the ship's rail and Elizabeth to pull himself upright. Shaking from the effort, he clung to his weary bride tightly while he tried to get his bearings.

"I don't know if I can do this," he told her with resignation.

"Yes, you can," his wife replied hurriedly. "We've been in tighter spots than this. I won't have you giving up so easily. We have a house to finish...and you owe me that fancy wedding you spoke of," she reminded him, one hand tenderly pushing the sweaty locks of dark hair from his face. "I've never known you to be a coward, Will Turner. Don't become one now."

"No, not a coward...just so tired..." he said hoarsely. The look in his fever-bright eyes made her flinch, the hopelessness she saw in their dark depths staggering. Will's despair was understandable, considering the circumstances, but somehow, Elizabeth did not expect it. He'd always been her rock, her guiding force, and in her girlish fantasies, her invincible hero. Surely he would not disappoint her now...

How long they stood there, frozen in that moment, Elizabeth did not know. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, a fleeting flash of time, yet still long enough for their lives to be irrevocably changed forever. In the back of her mind Elizabeth thought she might have heard the sound of cracking timber, but she would never be sure. Despite his own private hell, Will appeared to have sensed the danger, otherwise Elizabeth could not explain why he pushed her away so roughly, his lungs screaming for her to jump. Paralyzed by fear and confusion, Elizabeth could only stare dumbly while her husband rushed forward with amazing speed for an injured man and effortlessly shoved her over the side of the 'Renegade'. She tried to scream; her mouth opened wide but no sound would come forth. Her arms flailed, instinctively reaching for something to grab onto to but it was too late. Below her, debris from the damaged ships littered the swirling sea liberally, but there was no time to brace herself for the impact as she fell.

* * *

Any carefully formulated plans that Jack Sparrow might have considered were quickly scrapped when the 'Black Pearl' finally got close enough to see the horror unfolding before them.

Earlier, Jack hadn't needed to hear the excited cries of his crew to know that the 'Renegade' had been spotted. It was in the air, the wind bringing the smell of smoke and cannon fire, of burning timbers and canvas, and it struck Jack at once that they were quite possibly too late. But he was forced to push ahead with extreme caution when it became clear that the other ship involved in the firefight was a Naval vessel, an eerie sense of déjà vu settling uncomfortably in his belly when he realized it was an almost perfect replica of the doomed 'Interceptor'.

It quickly became clear though to the pirate Captain that neither ship was in a position to threaten the 'Pearl'. As they moved in closer it was painfully obvious that the Naval ship was sinking quickly while her crew made haste in their boats to distance themselves from their doomed ship. The 'Renegade' on the other hand was still afloat but slowly being ravaged by fire, the boats that Jack assumed held the escaping pirates nearly out of view.

"I want two boats lowered, 5 volunteers, pistols and muskets for prudence," Jack bellowed. "The 'Pearl' stays here for good measure. Either one of those wrecks could go up in a flash. I won't be losing her for good this time," he added, turning towards the frowning Anamaria, their eyes locking in a fierce gaze. Jack gave her a lopsided grin in return, wondering if she'd understood the double meaning in his words.

But the moment was lost when cries of 'man overboard' were heard from above and Jack looked up to see Duncan scrambling down the rigging, breathing hard. "Two men in the water, Captain...swimming towards us. One looks to be in a bad way," the younger man said grimly.

Jack nodded. "That's it, lads. Down the ropes if you're coming along," he told his crew. There was a moment of confusion as too many men made for the rails and Jack smiled smugly to himself, saving the moment in his mind for a later date. "I appreciate your loyalty mates, but since only 5 of you can come along, I'll choose."

Stubborn to the core, Gibbs didn't bother to wait for Jack to ask him to go along before he took up a musket and stuffed and extra pistol in his belt. Jack and the other four pirates followed behind the older man, hurrying down the side of the 'Pearl' and into the waiting boats as quickly as they could with the extra burden of the cumbersome firearms strapped to their backs and stuffed in their belts.

Climbing awkwardly into the small boat Jack quickly divested himself of his burdens and reached for the oars. "Jesus and Mary," breathed Gibbs from beside him, his voice tinged with horror. Jack whipped his head around to see what the older man was going on about.

From the fiery deck of the 'Renegade' a slight figure tumbled over the rail as the remaining mast broke in half and crashed to the deck. They were too far to be sure but he could swear he saw a flash of golden hair that looked too long to belong to a boy.

"Miss Elizabeth!"

"Probably," Jack affirmed grimly, all his theories coming together into sickening reality. "Row faster, lads...she looks to be in trouble!"

But seeing Elizabeth Swann falling overboard from the deck of the 'Renegade' wasn't nearly as shocking as the sight of the heaving and sputtering boy swimming towards them, dragging Jack's one-time...and presumably dead...good friend through the choppy waters of the Caribbean. Jack though could not waste precious times questioning the boy about the miraculous appearance of Bill Turner. Especially not when the exhausted young sailor was babbling hysterically about Will and Elizabeth still on board the 'Renegade'.

* * *

Struggling to the surface with the use of only one arm, Elizabeth Turner knew that the only thing that was keeping her from drowning was her determination to find Will. Her left arm had been rendered useless when she hit the water, her shoulder popping painfully out of its socket as it slammed into a sizable piece of the 'Renegade's' shattered hull. She coughed violently, her straining lungs doing their best to force the seawater out and the much-needed oxygen back in. The pain in her shoulder was blinding, but she grit her teeth and did her best to keep it at bay. With her arm hanging limply at her side, Elizabeth choked back a sob when she realized that Will was no where in sight. She'd assumed he'd jumped in after her, but if he had surely she would have seen him by now. Unless of course....No! She refused to accept that. Kicking her feet furiously to keep afloat, the injured girl cried out for her husband, her voice though no more than a harsh croak that was easily drowned out by the sound of the roaring fire just above her.

Long, agonizing moments passed and Elizabeth felt both her body and her spirit slowly give in to the weariness that gradually overwhelmed her. Will was still no where to be seen. With her injury, it was impossible to climb back up onto the 'Renegade' and search for him there. Besides, the heat and the fire had already disintegrated the ropes that had earlier dangled over the side, leaving her no access to the ship anyway. She knew the 'Pearl' was not far away, yet she feared she didn't have the physical strength to swim towards her. But even if she did, Elizabeth knew she would not have moved an inch from where she was. Not without Will.

Time slowed and the chill Elizabeth had felt when she'd first fallen into the water eased away, her body now feeling numb and weightless as her senses dulled. Beside her, she could see the broken piece of hull that had caused her injury yet she no longer possessed the strength or the will to grab on to it. The burning pain in her shoulder had faded away to a dull throb. As her legs moved slower, her lids drooped and her thoughts drifted off to a far away memory of being held in Will's arms. They were in the garden of her father's home. The day was sunny and fair, his strong embrace felt warm and safe, the reassuring smile on his face filling her heart with a comforting tranquility. Nestling closer into her beloved's arms, Elizabeth ceased her struggles and closed her eyes, a long sigh of content escaping her parted lips as the comforting darkness came to take her away.

* * *

With Bill and the boy safely on their way back to the 'Pearl', Jack, Gibbs and Kursar made their way with urgent haste towards the spot where they'd seen Elizabeth struggling. Jack didn't bother to wait for the small boat to get any closer. He dove into the sea without a second thought as soon it became obvious that Elizabeth was in distress. It only took him seconds to grab her after she'd slipped under the water but to Jack it seemed as if hours had passed before he was able to reach the drowning girl.

When they broke the surface, her turned her over gave her back a hard slap. When there was no response he hit her again, harder this time, and Elizabeth rewarded his efforts with a choking cough and a swift kick to his midsection as she struggled in his grasp.

"It's alright, luv...it's Jack. I won't hurt you," he told her soothingly, "let me help you."

"Jack!" she cried out, her voices no more than a scratchy rasp. "You've got to find Will! He pushed me over...the mast broke...I don't know where he is.." she babbled frantically, still struggling in his arms.

"As soon as you're safely in the care of Mr. Gibbs, I swear on my honor I'll find the lad."

"No! You don't understand! You have to go now! He's injured and he probably can't swim and..."

The small boat was nearly upon them and Jack turned to see his first mate struggling alone with the oars, as Kursar was now in the sea as well and swimming hard towards Jack and Elizabeth. The younger man immediately reached for the struggling girl but she cried out in agony when he unknowingly grabbed her injured left arm.

"Stop fighting, luvvie and let your old friend Kursar here take you back to the 'Pearl'," Jack told her slowly, trying his best to calm her, "I'm after Will, I promise you."

"My arm's broken I think...I can't move it," she hissed through gritted teeth. Understanding, Jack handed her off to the other man more carefully and this time she did not struggle.

"Swear to me you'll find him!"

Jack met her pain filled eyes and his gut clenched at the raw anguish he saw mirrored in the girl's gaze.

"I swear to you that I won't come back with out him," he told her solemnly and turned at once to swim towards the 'Renegade'.

But the pirate Captain would not make it any farther than a few yards before a mighty blast was heard and a wall of heat and fire rose up before him. Debris soared through the air like cannon fire and instinctively, Jack tried to dive under the surface to protect himself from the deadly pieces of the splintered ship that flew all around him. Fate though it seemed had other plans, as She usually does and just before Jack could slip under the surface something struck him hard and pain exploded just above his right ear.

_Elizabeth,_ he thought groggily, _I'm so sorry, luv_. Mercifully, he felt nothing else as the blackness swallowed him.

To be continued.............

* * *

Author's notes; Whew! Finally! You cannot imagine just how much this section tortured my brain. It was supposed to be part of Chapter 9; that's why both 9 and 10 are relatively short chapters. This long delay had nothing to do with lack of time or laziness of my part. I simply could not get it right. Since this is a pivotal point in the story it had to be 'perfect' or else I would not be able to tell the rest of the story the way I've planned it. Will anyone believe me if I say it will be smooth sailing from here and on?? Since I have a lot written and the whole thing planned out updates should be more regular. Huge thanks to everyone who is still reading and still supporting me. Your comments and encouragement mean more to me than you could ever imagine :)

Reviewer responses:

Neenie – I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Sorry for the delay!

Jeshika-chan – Thanks for your kind words!

Ila – I'm trying to write Will as he was in the film; loyal, honorable, courageous. Thanks so much for taking the time to review.

Mel – Huggles to one of my most loyal supporters. Thanks so much luvvie!

Takada Saiko – Somewhere in the author's notes you'll see that I too saw the deleted scenes but it was too late to correct Norrington's name. Thanks so much for your wonderful review.

Momma B – Here is yet another short chapter. Thanks so much for your continued support. It's greatly appreciated.

Ele – Melodrama is exactly the reason this chapter took so long. I really wanted to avoid that while still keeping it nice and angsty. Huggles and tons of thanks for all your help. Without you, this would have been buried long ago!

Trinity Day – Huge thanks for sticking with me. It means so much. I'm hoping to post more regularly from now on. (crosses fingers!)

nuit – I'm so glad you like my Elizabeth! In the film she comes off as fearless and clearly willing to risk everything for Will. As for Jack, well even though he comes off as comical in parts of the film there are moments where you can see that he is a character with depth. One such moment is the look on his face when he shoots Barbossa. The look in JD's eyes says it all. Thanks so much for your encouragement. hug

DemonicPelicans – Thanks so much for your kind words! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

clpm-9 – A fellow Will/Elizabeth shipper!! You don't need to leave detailed reviews; I appreciate each and every comment my readers leave and I thank you for taking the time to review.


	11. Chapter 11

Author – Unplugged32

Rating – PG-13

Classification – Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)

Summary – Will's past threatens his future. Can Jack stop what fate has set in motion?

Disclaimer – Obviously, the characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.

Author's notes and reviewer responses – at the end of the chapter

The Darkest Hour - Chapter 11

"Open your eyes, lad. Come on now, that's a good boy."

Jack let out a soft moan, the pain in his head unbelievably fierce, his eyes refusing to focus on the face that loomed above him. For one brief, blessed moment, he forgot where he was, why he was lying flat on his back with a raging headache, the sound of someone weeping softly only adding more confusion to his already jumbled thoughts.

"Jack, do you know who I am?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Jack replied finally, his voice sounding scratchy and foreign, his attempt at humor obviously falling flat as Joshamee Gibbs wasn't smiling. The older man reached out to help him stand and Jack gladly accepted his proffered hand. Leaning heavily on his first mate for support, Jack struggled to his feet, blinking rapidly to clear his clouded vision.

Around him, the deck of the 'Pearl' appeared to be in a state of controlled chaos. Nobody spoke but Jack's crew hurried about tending to various tasks, the eerie quiet broken only by the persistent sound of someone sobbing. Turning around as carefully as his pounding head would allow, Jack inhaled sharply when his gaze came to rest on his former crewmate, Bill Turner. The older man was sitting on the deck hunched over into himself as harsh sobs racked his burly frame. Beside him, a concerned Anamaria tried to tend to the nasty gash on his head but the older man seemed oblivious to her presence.

"Jesus Christ," Jack moaned, grabbing Gibbs by the arm, "Elizabeth?"

"She's below…she's fine."

"And where is the boy?"

The stricken look in the older man's eyes said all that needed to be said, but Jack wanted to hear the words.

"Mr. Gibbs, where is Will?" Jack asked slowly, careful to keep his voice steady.

"I expect he's dead, Captain," Gibbs told him solemnly, shaking his head sadly. "As soon as we picked you out of the water we searched for him, but…"

"And is anyone still looking for him?" Jack demanded harshly.

"I have four boats in the water, Captain. But it's been a while now…the sea's gone rough and we've just about lost daylight. Jack…face it, if he was still on the 'Renegade' there's no way he survived that blast. I'm sorry."

Jack flinched visibly and let go oh his first mate's arm as he took a step back. "I refuse to believe that," he stated flatly, "Lower a boat for me; I'll go and find him myself."

"Jack, you're not going anywhere!" Gibbs told him firmly, "You yourself were nearly killed in that blast. Your skull's probably cracked and you've swallowed half the sea. I'm not letting you off this ship and that's final."

The pain in his head was blinding, but he would not be told what to do. "Last I checked, Mr. Gibbs_, I_ was captain of the 'Black Pearl."

Gibbs grunted. "Last I checked I was a lot older and a lot wiser than you, lad. I promise you, Jack, if the boy is still alive, your crew will find him. You know that."

"_Miss Elizabeth…wait!"_

The pain in Jack's head forced him to turn slowly. He didn't recognize the voice but the face looked vaguely familiar. He blinked, his vision clearing and Jack realized it was the young sailor who'd dragged Bill to the 'Pearl'. His face set in a worried expression, the boy trailed closely after Elizabeth as she hurried across the deck.

With one arm in a sling, Elizabeth was barefoot and still dressed in her filthy boy's clothes. Her hair hung in damp clumps around her face and she seemed to be covered in cuts and bruises from head to toe. But although she looked awful, it wasn't her injuries that made Jack wince. It was the look in her eyes. He saw anger and accusation there and he saw pain, the kind that Jack had never himself known. As she made her way purposely towards him, Jack felt his breath catch, and he braced himself for her fury.

"You bastard!" she cried out, shoving him hard with her good hand and Jack stumbled, his head spinning as he tried to maintain his balance.

"You swore to me that you wouldn't come back without him!"

Jack nodded slowly, the weight of her words nearly suffocating him. "You're right, lass. I promised," he told her solemnly, "and I wish to God I could have kept that promise…but it was out of my hands, luv. I tried to get to him but…"

Elizabeth wasn't listening. With her good hand she pummeled his chest furiously, her words incoherent in her rage and Jack did not stop her. She had surprising strength for someone injured and her blows stung. Yet Jack hardly noticed. All her felt was her pain. He felt it inside of him like a living, breathing thing, eating away at him like a parasite, the anguish he saw in her haunted eyes unlike anything he'd seen before.

"I hate you!" she wailed, her assault never letting up, her fist falling over and over again on his arms and his shoulders and his breast until Jack, afraid only for the girl, finally gripped her arm and stayed her hand.

"Stop it, Elizabeth…you'll hurt yourself," he told her gently, holding her wrist in an iron grip. Around them, Jack's crew stood frozen as the scene played itself out, all eyes on the grieving girl and their anguished Captain. Joshamee Gibbs moved slowly forward, his tired eyes suspiciously red, one hand reaching out tentatively and unsure.

"Let's go, lass," the older man told her quietly. Jack tuned to his first mate and shook his head slowly. Gibbs reluctantly nodded in understanding and backed away.

Elizabeth appeared oblivious to everything and everyone aside from the pirate captain before her. Her chest heaved with exertion, her breath coming is short gasps as she struggled to free her good hand from Jack's grip, a string of expletives that Jack assumed she'd learned from his crew at some point flowing from her mouth.

"If I could undo this all…if it was in my power to have stopped Jeremiah before he ever came near you or Will I swear on my life I would have done it," he began quietly, his voice cracking, "but I couldn't and I'm sorry for that, luv. I'll be sorry for the rest of my life," he said, flinching visibly as he said the words that had only at that moment begun to sink in.

"It was you and your lust for gold that started all of this!" Elizabeth replied searingly. "All those years ago…Will and I were just children, but even then pawns in a game of fate. If it wasn't for that accursed treasure chest of gold we would have never crossed paths with the likes of you and Barbossa or that murdering bastard Jeremiah," she cried accusingly, twisting her arm in a way that looked extremely painful in her attempt to free herself from his grip. "You killed him, Jack, as surely as if you'd blown that ship out of the water yourself!"

Her words cut deep as they were meant to but he could not deny the truth of them. It _had _been his desire to get his hands on the Aztec gold that led to the bizarre chain of events that spanned the course of ten years and eventually led them to this moment. An innocent boy was dead, an innocent girl's life destroyed and Jack knew that no matter how he looked at it, it all came back to him.

'You're right," Jack said with defeat after a long silence. His hand opened and her wrist fell free and Jack heard an echo of gasps from around him as he slowly unfastened the dagger on his belt and offered it, hilt first, to the grieving girl in front of him, his mind and his heart resigned to whatever fate she would choose for him.

"Take it, lass," Jack told her softly. "If killing me will take away even a little bit of the pain I see in your eyes, then I give you my life freely."

"Jack!" Joshamee Gibbs hissed sharply from beside him, "Don't be a fool!"

"It's not your business to interfere, Mr. Gibbs," Jack said firmly, "No one will interfere. I'm still Captain of this ship and what I say is law. Take it, lass. It's your right."

Elizabeth's expression went from fury to disbelief as the pirate willingly offered the blade to her. For a brief moment, he thought she'd take it. If she had, he wouldn't have blamed her. He too held himself as responsible for Will's death as Elizabeth did, despite the fact that he would have never willingly harmed the boy he considered his friend. Jack had never known a love like theirs and even though he could not feel the same anguish as the girl who stood shaking in front of him, for the first time in his life he felt a sense of loss so deep it stole his breath away.

With a harsh sound like a sob, Elizabeth surged forward and brought her bruised fist down on Jack's wrist, knocking the dagger from his hand onto the deck, the polished blade hitting the worn, wooden planks with a dull thud. In her eyes, Jack saw the tears she had not yet shed for her lover well-up and spill over dark lashes, the salty liquid leaving two clear trails down her filthy cheeks to roll off the curve of her jaw and land soundlessly on the collar of Will's borrowed shirt. Jack watched numbly as she swayed and then sank heavily to her knees, her keening sobs cutting straight through him, wounding him more deeply than any blade ever could.

"I'm so sorry, love," Jack whispered, sinking down beside her. "I'm so sorry."

"He's gone, Jack…he's really gone," she sobbed into her hand, her breath coming in short gasps. "I can't believe he's gone."

"Hush, love, please. You'll make yourself sick."

"He's gone…I can't believe he's gone," she repeated, over and over as she rocked back and forth. As gently as he could, Jack reached out and pulled her against him, careful of her injured arm as well as her fragile state. To his surprise Elizabeth let him hold her, her body falling forward into his embrace. Jack's arms instantly tightening around her limp frame, hot tears soaking his damp shirt as she buried her face against his chest and wept.

Around them, the shocked crew of the 'Black Pearl' slowly began to shuffle away, eyes cast down and heads hung low. There was not a man…or woman among them that didn't feel the girl's pain or their Captain's guilt but the moment was too private for them to share. In a daze, a subdued and numb Bill Turner could only stare at Jack and Elizabeth, the pirate Captain rocking the girl in his arms like a child as she wept for the loss of the boy she loved. Beside Bill, Anamaria took his rough hand gently is her own in an unspoken gesture of comfort. The pirate girl's soft touch though could offer no solace. Not to a man who knew that his only child was lost to him forever.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Day had faded into early evening and in the twilight of the setting sun, the 'Pearl' rounded up what was left of the 'Intrepid's' crew from the choppy waters. At first both marines and officers alike had been reluctant to accept the pirate Captain's hospitality but with no other option than to float for days hoping that a friendly ship would find them, they decided to take their chances on the 'Pearl'. The sea had turned rough and darkness would soon be upon them and not one of the exhausted sailors relished the thought of spending the night in the lifeboats. On his orders, Jack's crew quickly and efficiently provided dry clothing, blankets and a hot meal for the rescued men, and although it was obvious that the two crews were wary of each other, a silent truce seemed to have been declared between them. With the grateful crew of the 'Intrepid' now dry and fed, Jack set a course for Port Royal, taking the wheel himself.

The search for Will had only been ended when the sea had become too dangerous for his crew to keep looking. Jack had wanted to remain in that spot and continue the search in the morning but in his heart he knew it would be futile. The weather was turning fast. Already the wind hindered their course and Jack knew he needed to get his ship away from the coming storm before it hit. It was an agonizing decision but he could not endanger the lives of a ship full of men on the off chance of finding his friend's lifeless body among the wreckage.

The deck was quiet now, the crew of the 'Intrepid' settled below-decks for the night with the exception of those who were uninjured and had offered their service to Jack's crew. Among them were the 'Intrepid's' officers, including Lieutenant Gillette, who was now striding towards Jack purposefully.

"I've just been informed that Mrs. Turner is in your cabin and I've been barred from checking on her well being," he said told Jack pompously.

"Mrs. Turner?"

Gillette exhaled loudly in exasperation. "_Elizabeth_. I must see Elizabeth and your thugs will not let me pass!"

So the children had been married. This new knowledge sent a little stab of pain straight to Jack's gut. "Anamaria gave her something to sleep. Your man Whitcomb is with her so I don't see why you should have to worry. Hasn't left her side for a second. Reminds me of…"

Jack stopped and took a deep breath, the name simply too painful to say just yet.

"It's unseemly that you've ensconced her in your own cabin! You should have put her with that female…the Island girl."

"I put her in my cabin so that she would be more comfortable, Lieutenant," Jack replied coldly. "Mrs. Turner is injured; in my cabin she can receive better care."

Gillette crossed his arms over his chest. "And who exactly is tending to her? Don't tell me it's Whitcomb because I swear I'll have him court-martialed if he's so much as…"

"She'd been tended to by that Island girl as you call her," Jack said carefully, his patience shredded. "Mr. Whitcomb is sitting with while she sleeps because this ship cannot run without that _Island girl_. "Now I suggest in light of what's been lost here today," Jack said, his voice catching, "you find yourself a corner to sulk in before I lose my temper, savvy?"

Gillette's face went livid. "You think you're so superior, don't you, you bloody scalawag…"

"For the moment, I'm the one with the ship, mate, and I'm the one who saved your poncy arse so yes, I am feeling rather superior," Jack told him with a glint in his eye that would have frightened even the most seasoned of sailors.

Outraged, Gillette opened his mouth to reply but he must have thought better of it as he shut it once again and stalked off like a sullen child. At any other time, Jack would have enjoyed goading him further but tonight he was simply too weary and his heart too heavy to bother.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was almost midnight when the 'Dauntless', pride of the Crown's navy and Norrington's flagship appeared. Jack had been expecting it of course. After a long talk with George Whitcomb he'd finally been able to piece the entire story together; the attack on Will and his father, the "Intrepid's' pursuit of the 'Renegade', Elizabeth stowing away and the hasty ship-board wedding. It was only a matter of time before the 'Dauntless' would appear, Jack had concluded, probably with Norrington himself in command to search for the wayward Elizabeth. Jack had run up a white flag and signaled the Naval vessel at once, but he didn't get his hopes up that things would move along smoothly. To his surprise however, the 'Dauntless' continued to move closer without any sign of hostility and Norrington himself was among the party that had just then boarded the 'Pearl'.

Quick explanations were given and even Gillette grudgingly credited Jack with saving his crew from the storm that would have surely drowned them in the night. For the most part Jack remained silent, letting Gillette and George Whitcomb tell most of the tale and it was only after the crew of 'Dauntless' was almost fully evacuated form the 'Pearl' did Norrington get a chance to speak to Jack in private.

"I don't know how you ended up directly in the path of the 'Intrepid' but it appears as if once again I am in your debt," Norrington told Jack quietly, the look on the Commodore's face unreadable. "Not only for taking care of my crew but for keeping Elizabeth from harm."

Jack's mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "I'd love to take the credit for that, Commodore but I can't. It was Will that saved her. All I did was help out a little."

At the mention of Will, the other man's mouth tightened. "My men tell me you did your best to find him. I'm very grateful," Norrington said softly, the deep sadness in his eyes too genuine to be a lie.

"Yes well apparently my best wasn't good enough because the boy's not here, is he?" Jack said harshly, looking away. "Look, Elizabeth is in my cabin. If I could have just a few minutes with her before you go, I'd appreciate it."

Norrington nodded. "Of course."

"Alright. I won't be long. There's still a storm chasing us and I'm sure that you want to get out of these waters as quickly as I do."

"Indeed."

"One last thing," Jack said, turning back to the Commodore, "That pup, Whitcomb…he deserves a commendation if you ask me. I'm sure Gillette will say otherwise so make sure you get the full story from Elizabeth, savvy?"

Norrington nodded, one side of his mouth turning up into a half smile. "I'll take it under consideration. Oh, and do us both a favor…stay out of trouble, Captain. I'm very grateful for what you've done and whether I like it or not I find myself indebted to you. But that doesn't mean I won't come after you if I hear you've been misbehaving."

Jack smiled despite himself. "Agreed," he replied simply and left to see Elizabeth.

To be continued……

Reviewer responses;

Daydreamer – In the reviewer responses to the last section I forgot to include reviews received off so please forgive me. Your words left me stunned. You can't imagine how touched I was by your beautiful review. I've saved it and when I'm feeling anxious about the story I go back and read it again to chase away the doubts. Thank you from the bottom of my heart

Ele – Thanks so much for always encouraging me to continue. I hope this section doesn't disappoint you.

Huge thanks to: clpm-9, Narya Fire, Staci, Momma B., Takada Saiko, Trinity Day, orlikeiraluv, CrAzY Pigwidgeon, Elf Fanatic Lark and Lou E. Isanut for taking the time to review. You are all wonderful and it's your kind words and encouragement that keep me going. Individual responses will be back with the next chapter, I promise.


	12. Chapter 12 Epilogue of Part I

Author – Unplugged32

Rating – PG-13

Classification – Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)

Summary – Will's past threatens his future. Can Jack stop what fate has set in motion?

Disclaimer – Obviously, the recognizable characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.

Author's notes and reviewer responses – at the end of the chapter

* * *

The Darkest Hour – Epilogue of Part I

In Jack Sparrow's cabin, Elizabeth Turner came to awareness to the sound of muffled voices. Heavy, swollen lids would not open and if not for the throbbing pain in her shoulder she might have simply snuggled deeper into the comfortable mattress and gone back to sleep.

With the pain though came clarity and then an agonizing rush of memory. Her shoulder hurt because Will had thrown her into the sea to save her from the falling mast. Then Jack came and now she was on the 'Pearl'. Will wasn't though. _Will is dead_, she thought dully, killed in the explosion that destroyed the 'Renegade'. _Will is dead and I'm not…but I should be…_

"…you can stay on of course…" Jack's voice, Elizabeth realized groggily, his words cutting into her morbid thoughts.

"I appreciate that, Jack, but I have to go back to Port Royal. There's the shop to sort out and Will's debts to pay…" She didn't recognize the voice of the second man but Elizabeth thought it might be Bill.

"If it's gold you're needing, mate…"

There was a long sigh. "No…I can settle my son's accounts. I um…I just think I should be there…Elizabeth and all. She was his bride you know…"

"I know," Jack replied softly. "Whitcomb told me. Bill, I can't tell you how sorry I am that I couldn't…"

"It weren't your fault, Jack. No matter what Elizabeth might be feeling it's not your fault. It's mine. I left him and his Mum…I sent him that cursed piece of gold. _That's_ how this whole bloody mess got started. If anyone is responsible for the death of my son it's me," Bill said, his voice cracking under the weight of his pain.

"Bill…"

"Look, I um, I'm not sure what'll be waiting for me, though. You know, Norrington and all…now that he knows who I really am. But I won't send Elizabeth back alone. It wouldn't be right."

"Leave Norrington to me, mate. He owes me a favor or two," Jack said with the slightest hint of amusement in his voice. "Take the lass home and once you've settle your affairs you can always change your mind."

"Jack, there's something I need to know…something I just don't have the heart to ask myself…"

"I don't understand…"

"Jack, my boy and Elizabeth…they've been together for a while now…what I mean to say is…well, what I want to know is if there is any chance that maybe Elizabeth might be…might be in the family way…"

Up until that moment Elizabeth had simply listened lethargically as the two men spoke, her heart too numb and soul too wounded to do anything more than lie quietly in her misery. But Bill's question sent a stab of white-hot pain right through her. She bit down hard on her lip and buried her face deep into the pillow to keep from crying out. How she longed for it to be true. But she and Will had never lain together. There had been times when they'd come close to throwing caution to the wind but Will's deep respect for his fiancée and for her father had kept their passions at bay.

"I'm not sure what you're asking me, Bill," Jack replied after a long pause.

"I know this may sound inappropriate…but I was hoping you could speak to her…discreetly…" Bill said quietly, his voice cracking as he said the words.

"Mate, that's a difficult thing you're asking me to do…especially knowing how the lass feels about me right now…"

There was a soft knock on the door and before Bill could argue his point any further the cabin door opened and Elizabeth recognized the mumbled apology as coming from George.

"I'm sorry to interrupt but Commodore Norrington asked me to let you know it's time to take Mrs. Turner to the 'Dauntless'."

"She's still asleep, lad. Tell the Commodore it's best if he brings a litter and some warm blankets. No need to disturb her. She's been through enough this day," Jack told the boy softly.

"Yes, Sir…I'll inform the Commodore at once."

"Bill, go help the boy…I um, I'll wait with Elizabeth…"

"If she wakes…if she wakes, will you ask her?" Bill questioned softly.

There was a momentary silence, as if Jack was considering Bill's request. "Yes," he replied finally and Elizabeth heard Bill sigh and shuffle out of the cabin after Whitcomb.

Left alone with Jack, Elizabeth lay very still, her heart suddenly pounding very hard. She felt him move closer to her and when he knelt down beside the comfortable bunk she nearly flinched when one callused hand gently brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face.

"I'm sorry, luv. I'm so sorry that I couldn't stop what happened," the pirate captain said softly.

Elizabeth had no idea if he knew that she'd woken, but either way she could not face him. Not now. Not with the pain still so new. Even though she'd come to accept the fact that no one person was to blame for Will's death, she simply did not feel like absolving anyone of their guilt for the role they'd played. Not Jack, not Bill, and most of all, not herself.

When George returned with Norrington moments later, Elizabeth Turner kept her eyes shut and simply let them take her away, leaving a silent and much-changed Jack Sparrow standing frozen in his cabin as he watched her go.

End Part I – The Darkest Hour

Part II on the way ;)

* * *

Author's Notes: This was a very short chapter tying up the loose ends. I had wanted to end Part I with the previous chapter but I was so anxious to post before the New Year and this section hadn't been completed yet. Oh and Chapter 1 of Part II is done! I had considered posting that chapter as well but I figured it would cause confusion. It will definitely be posted in the next few days, though. Keep this thread book-marked because I intend to continue the story here. Even if you're not a big fan of leaving reviews, please leave me a quick note so I know you've seen the epilogue so that I can go ahead and start posting the new chapters. 

Reviewer responses: (in order of appearance)

100 reviews! I can't believe it. Thanks to everyone.

Smithy – Thanks for taking the time to review. I guess you'll just have to keep reading for an answer to your question;)

Narya Fire – I'm so glad you liked my favorite part! Thanks so much for your continued support.

Quiet Infinity – Your review made me blush;) I'm deeply touched by your kind words. Thanks so much for taking the time to share your thoughts.

Trinity Day – Thanks so much for your continued support and your encouragement – it means so much.

CrAzy pigwidgeon – From one fanfic junkie to another, thanks so much for your continued support and your enthusiasm for my story.

Staci – I am very flattered that this is your favorite story. Thanks so much for your encouragement; it means a lot.

Jack E – You've convinced me to go and make the corrections. I'll get to it as soon as possible so we can start calling Norrington by his proper name. Thanks so much for your kind words.

Eledhwen – So glad you liked the Jack/Norrington interaction. It was my intention to keep the 'relationship' as we last saw it in the film, with Norrington and Jack coming to a sort of unspoken truce without making them appear to have become good buddies;) Thanks so much for your continued support.

Momma B – A wonderful New Year to you too! Keep making wishes; we'll see what happens;) Thanks so much for your continued support and enthusiasm for my story.

Kiss316 – Wow! Thanks for that inspiring review. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story as well. Thanks so much for taking the time to review and share your thoughts

Ele – Sorry I made you tear up, luv. No wait…I'm not sorry! I tried very hard to convey Elizabeth's pain and Jack's guilt without making it too melodramatic or sappy. I hope I achieved that. Thanks so much for your continued support and encouragement.


	13. Part II Chapter 1

The Darkest Hour – Part II

Author – Unplugged32

Rating – PG-13

Classification – Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)

Summary : Four months after Will is lost at sea, Jack makes a startling discovery that will once again send our heroes into a tailspin of uncertainty, danger and of course, angst ;)

Disclaimer – Obviously, the recognizable characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.

Author's notes and reviewer responses – at the end of the chapter.

* * *

Chapter 1 

_Somewhere off the coast of St. Kitts_

Jack Sparrow boarded the 'Lady Jane' with the confidence of a man who knew that he was feared. And feared he was. This was more than obvious from the faces of the terrified crewmen who'd easily surrendered to the pirate captain without firing a single shot. Of course, most of what was said about Jack was legend really. Those who actually knew him were fully aware of the fact he wasn't capable of most of the atrocities credited to him. Not that anyone would dispute it though; he was, after all, the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow and few men had the courage to challenge him.

The thrill of the chase, the smug satisfaction at the taking the prize; no matter how many years would pass, Jack knew these feelings would never dull. The 'Lady Jane' in particular was a ship that Jack had long hoped would cross his path. Aside from the promise of a generous booty, Jack held a severe dislike for the ship's captain, a man whose business dealings made pirates look respectable. If there was one thing Jack hated, it was slavers and Gregor Bell was probably the most famous of all.

With the crew of the 'Lady Jane' safely secured on the ship's none-too tidy deck, Jack's crew made quick work relieving her of her generous cargo, while Gibbs and a party of three other pirates searched the ship from deck to hull looking for a different kind of cargo; the human kind.

"Which one of you dogs holds the keys to the brig?"

Jack frowned and turned to see Joshamee Gibbs making his way across the deck towards the crew of the 'Lady Jane'. The older man looked furious, his eyes blazing with anger as he addressed the sullen men before him.

"What have you found?" Jack asked his first mate cautiously.

"There's someone in the brig…a lad, and he looks to be in a bad way," Gibbs told Jack grimly.

Up until that moment, Gregor Bell had barely spoken a word, seething in cowardly silence among his crew. But at the mention of the man in the brig the detested slave-trader surged forward awkwardly, his bound hands and chained feet hampering his movements as he did so. He was quickly detained none-too-gently by Cotton and Duncan before he could get any closer to Jack.

"It's nothing to do with you, Sparrow. You've got what you've come for; what's between me and my crew is my business!"

Jack's face twisted into a mask of fury. "I'm this close to throwing you overboard, mate. If I were you, I'd keep my mouth shut and hand over the key."

"He don't have it, Sir," a frightened voice squeaked.

"Who said that?" Jack barked impatiently.

An angry murmur rippled through the ranks of the 'Lady Jane's' crew and the crowd of sailors parted reluctantly to reveal a boy no older than 15, his huge blues eyes wide with fright.

"I have the key," the boy said carefully, his voice trembling. "It's my duty to take care of the pris…of the man in the brig,"

"Take care of him, do you? Mr. Gibbs here says he looks to be in a bad way," Jack told the frightened boy accusingly.

The boy reddened at once and dropped his eyes to the deck. "I've been doing the best I could with no supplies…I've never harmed him, I swear," the boy said quietly, moving closer to Jack on legs that shook visibly. "Please sir…don't 'urt him…"

Something in the boys huge, round eyes and pleading voice made Jack even more anxious to get the cell opened as soon as possible. "Mr. Cotton, release this boy from his bonds so that he may accompany me below-decks."

Cotton nodded and quickly undid the ropes on the boy's wrists and handed him over to Jack. "Don't do anything to make me regret that I've untied you, child… savvy?"

The boy swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he did so. "Yes sir," he whispered and quickly led Jack and Gibbs into the bowels of the 'Lady Jane'.

The hold stank of mould and rotting wood. Jack was disgusted by the state in which Bell kept his ship. A moment later he was even more disgusted by the way he kept his prisoners. As they approached the locked cell, Jack nearly gagged on the smell of old blood and festering wounds.

"I thought you said you'd been looking after him," Jack told the boy harshly.

The boy looked as if he would burst into tears at any moment. "I am…but aside from a bowl of water and a filthy rag I have nothin' to treat him with. I've asked for some bandages and salve and some whisky for the pain but Captain Bell wouldn't allow it," he said, trailing off in shame.

"And why exactly is this man in the brig and how was he injured?"

"It were the lash that done this to him…though he didn't deserve it," the boy said mournfully, his eyes darting to the injured man lying in the shadows.

"Open the blasted cell then boy so we can see if he's still breathing," Gibbs said impatiently and the boy hurried to comply.

Once the creaky iron door opened, to Jack's surprise the boy darted forward and stood in front of the unmoving man on the bunk, his arms spread wide protectively.

"You won't hurt him, will you? It's just he's already been hurt more than anyone ever should be…if you mean to kill him, _please_…do it quick," the boy said softly, his voice shaking with both fear and grief.

"Daft boy! We don't want to kill him," Gibbs said impatiently, making his way to where the man lay on his stomach, deathly still. "Now step aside so I can see what's what."

The boy was terrified, yet still he remained defiant. "He's bad off…you've got to be very careful or you'll 'urt him."

"Damn and blast you, boy…move your bony arse now before I lock _you_ in one of these cells!" Gibbs told him harshly and the boy finally scuttled to the foot of the bunk, eyeing the older man warily.

"Why was this man punished?" Jack asked, his gut clenching at the sight of the festering wounds that Gibbs was gingerly uncovering. All the while the injured man did not stir.

"He took 30 lashes for disobeying an order from the Captain," the boy spat bitterly. "Only it weren't his fault…he's good and kind and he'd never intentionally hurt anyone…"

"What are you babbling about, boy? Who did he hurt and why?"

The boy took a deep breath, hie eyes never leaving Gibbs as he tried to gently unglue the bloodied shirt from the man's battered back.

"There was a storm…and the Captain was shouting orders…but it was just so loud, the sound of the waves and the howl of the wind…and I couldn't 'ear him, and next thing you know there's a man on the deck bleeding…and then the Captain goes into a rage and comes over to us and he clubs him," the boy said in a rush of words, flinching as he recalled the moment. "And then later, when the storm finally died down he came for him and gave him thirty lashes for not following orders…but it weren't his fault!"

By now there were tears streaking the boys face but he made no move to wipe them away. "It weren't his fault," he said again, softer this time, his eyes downcast while the tears continued to fall.

"You're not making any sense, boy…" Jack began but was quickly silenced by his first mate's loud gasp.

"Mary, mother of God…"Gibbs exclaimed, sinking to his knees on to the filthy straw beneath his feet. Jack whipped his head around and watched frozen as Gibbs pushed the long, dark hair away from the man's face and blinked hard as he studied the bearded features of the injured sailor.

"It can't be…" Gibbs breathed in shock, the injured man's hand cradled in his own, palm up. He appeared to be looking for something but there was simply too much grime on the man's heated skin.

"Give me that wet cloth," he demanded of the boy, who hurried to comply. The older man took the dirty rag with hands that shook and he gently wiped the filth away from the inured man's palm. A sharp intake of breath from his first mate told Jack he'd found what he'd been looking for.

"Mr. Gibbs?" the pirate Captain inquired slowly, an odd sensation settling in the pit of his stomach. He moved forward unconsciously, his eyes darting to the long white scar on the palm of his own hand before his gaze came to rest on an almost identical mark on the hand that Gibbs continued to hold with infinite gentleness.

"So maybe there really is a God," Jack breathed, heart hammering in his chest as he looked up to meet his first mate's gaze, a hopeful grin on his face. "And it appears as if He has a stubborn fondness for this troublesome lad."

* * *

"Boy, run as fast as you can topside. Tell my crew we need a litter and clean blankets down here as soon as possible, savvy?" 

The boy simply nodded and darted out of the cell to do Jack's bidding. Unable to do anything to help the lad under these conditions, Gibbs discreetly stepped aside and gave Jack a chance to move closer to the bunk to get a better look at the unconscious figure who lay there. By some holy miracle it was Will Turner alright. The boy's handsome features were marred by pain and sickness and covered by a youthful beard but there was no mistaking his friend. How he'd survived the blast and ended up on the 'Lady Jane' and why that bastard Bell had him so severely beaten were questions that would have to wait. They needed to get him to the 'Pearl' as soon as possible. Anamaria would know what to do. And Gibbs too. They made a good team, those two, better than any leech Jack had ever known. The pirate Captain could only hope that the lad was not beyond help.

The boy returned moments later with two of Jack's crewman behind him, carrying a litter made of old canvas and discarded timber. To Jack's dismay Will appeared to be fully oblivious to his surroundings. He didn't so much as wince as Jack and Gibbs wrapped him in the clean blankets and transferred him to the waiting litter. The only sign that there was any life left in the battered young man was the slight rise and fall of his chest. For one terrible moment fear squeezed Jack's once-frozen heart as he considered the possibility that they'd found him simply to lose him once again…and this time for good.

"Hurry you dogs and careful not to hurt him an further," Jack barked out the order roughly, stubbornly deciding he would not contemplate anything aside from a full recovery. The lad was strong. He was a survivor and he had his beautiful wife to return to in Port Royal. That alone should be incentive enough for him to fight to stay alive.

Just as Will was being taken out of the cell, the boy with the blue eyes hurried after the retreating pirates like a mother hen following her chicks. Jack couldn't help the tiny half smile that turned up one side of his mouth as he watched the youth hover.

"And where exactly do you think you're going, boy?" Jack questioned, his voice laced with amusement. "As far as I remember you're a member of the 'Lady Jane's' crew and not the 'Pearl's'."

"I'm going with Mr. Turner," the boy replied defiantly.

"Are you now? And have you asked the captain of the 'Black Pearl' for permission to do so?"

The boy reddened. "No," he replied softly, "But I have to stay with him," the boy insisted stubbornly. "He needs me."

Jack's amusement faded at the look on the boy's face. "What do you mean he needs you? On the 'Pearl' he'll be among friends and receive the best possible care. What kind of help can you offer that me and my crew cannot?"

The boy went silent. Jack winced at the raw fear in his eyes.

"What are you hiding, child? Tell me at once or I will most certainly leave you behind, probably to be punished by your upstanding captain."

"No! Please…he'll toss me overboard for sure now for 'elping you. I beg you sir, take me with you and I swear I'll tell you everything I know," the boy replied pleadingly.

"What's your name, child?" Jack questioned.

"Aaron…Aaron Smith. My father was the 'Lady Jane's' first mate 'fore he was killed six months back."

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "And tell me Aaron Smith, why are you so afraid for Mr. Turner? I can assure you no harm will come to him while he's in my care."

"It's not for me to say," the boy replied finally after a long pause.

"But you've just sworn to tell me everything you know. Or have you already forgotten your promise?"

"Jack," Gibbs hissed impatiently from beside him, "this has got to wait. The lad needs to be tended to if he's going to live to see his bride again."

"His bride? You mean his wife isn't dead?" the boy asked hopefully.

"No she most certainly is not," Jack replied, grabbing the boy by the collar and pulling him along with him as he and Gibbs made their way topside. On the deck of the 'Lady Jane', Jack's crew chattered excitedly at the sight of the young man they'd long thought dead. Will was quickly transferred with the utmost care to the 'Pearl' with Gibbs following closely behind while the remainder of Jack's men waited aboard the 'Lady Jane' for their orders.

Jack turned once more to the boy at his side, a deep frown marring his features. "Why did you think Will's wife was dead?"

Aaron swallowed hard. "Because he said he thought she might be. He told me he was forced to throw her into the sea…" the boy said in a pained whisper. "He thought he might have drowned her instead of saving her…he didn't know what happened to her after that."

Jack could not even imagine what Will must have endured thinking he might have killed Elizabeth.

"No, he saved her," Jack quickly assured the stricken child.

"You must tell him at once, sir. He's suffered 'orribly wondering," the boy told Jack with urgency. Suddenly the child appeared so much older as he went on. "He took thirty lashes from that bastard Bell and he never cried out once…didn't make a sound until after they threw him in that cell and I tried to clean up his back as best as I could. I never seen a man strong as Mr. Turner," the boy said with awe.

"But her," the child continued softly, "she haunted him. Sometimes, in the night, when he thought no one was listening he would weep for her …and he calls out for her in his sleep too. Elizabeth…that's her name right? He never said exactly but that's the name he mumbles in his sleep."

"Captain, we need to go…what's yer orders, sir?" Duncan asked quietly from beside him. Jack sighed as he tried to absorb all that the boy had said and still think clearly. They needed to move on as soon as possible and Jack had to fight the urge to continue questioning the boy until after they'd departed the 'Lady Jane'.

"We're leaving," Jack told Duncan finally, moving towards the crew of the slaver with hatred burning in his dark eyes, "but not before the good captain here gets a taste of his own medicine. Duncan, would you and Mr. Cotton kindly tie Captain Bell to the mast? I intend to make him feel every one of the thirty lashes that young William suffered. And I promise you, I will not be merciful."

To be continued……………….

* * *

Huge thanks to the following readers who took the time to review: Quiet Infinity, Smithy, Staci, MommaB, Narya Fire, Jack E., orlikeiraluv, CrAzY Pigwidgeon, kiss316 . Your continued support and enthusiasm is greatly appreciated. Individual responses will return with the next chapter. 


	14. Part II Chapter 2

The Darkest Hour – Part II

Author – Unplugged32

Rating – PG-13

Classification – Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)

Summary : Four months after Will is lost at sea, Jack makes a startling discovery that will once again send our heroes into a tailspin of uncertainty, danger and of course, angst ;)

Disclaimer – Obviously, the recognizable characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.

Author's notes and reviewer responses – at the end of the chapter

* * *

Chapter 2

The 'Black Pearl' set a hasty course for the island of Tortuga, cautiously distancing itself from the 'Lady Jane' and her now-humbled captain. It had given Jack no pleasure to deliver such a harsh punishment, not even to a man as abominable as Gregor Bell, but he did not regret it. Not while Will's life hung by a thread, his body ruthlessly mutilated by the notorious slaver's cruel hand.

In Jack Sparrow's cabin, an anxious Anamaria fretted over Will's raging fever. Directly after bringing the injured lad aboard the 'Pearl', Jack's long, copper tub had been quickly filled with lukewarm water and with the help of Mr. Gibbs, Jack and Anamaria gently eased the unconscious Will into the waiting bath. The boy remained frighteningly unresponsive as the trio did their best to wash the blood and grime from his torn flesh, their hopes that the tepid water would help to lower his fever futile. When they were done, he was quickly clad in a pair of soft breeches and carefully placed on Jack's bunk where Anamaria and Gibbs spent nearly two hours tending to his festering wounds with the utmost gentleness and care. All the while though Will showed no sign that he was aware of their ministrations, a fact that greatly disheartened the weary pirate girl.

"There's no change," she told Jack softly. Covering Will's bandaged back with a clean white sheet, Anamaria sank tiredly into a chair and rested her head on her arms atop the polished oak table that took up most of the space in Jack's cabin.

Staring out at the sea through the rain-splattered panes of glass, Jack said nothing. The sudden shower had come upon them unexpectedly, the clouded sky a mirror of his own darkened mood. So many questions unanswered, so many facts still needed to fill in the gaps for Will's missing months. Aside from the wounds on his back from the lash, Will had other scars, older ones but still recent. An obvious pistol wound, badly healed with signs that it had been cauterized; a jagged scar on his shoulder haphazardly stitched, the skin around the gash still angry and pink. Jack winced inwardly at the physical suffering inflicted on his young friend since they'd last parted in Port Royal.

The boy Aaron was apparently the key to the mystery but Jack had decided not to push him just yet. The child was frightened of something…of that Jack was certain. Fear haunted his enormous blue eyes and it had taken the threat of incarceration to pry him away from Will and into the care of Jack's crew for a bath and a hot meal. Jack knew that if he didn't tread carefully, the boy would not cooperate and whatever he was hiding would remain a mystery until Will awoke.

_If he woke…_

Gentle hands came to rest on his hips and Jack willingly gave into temptation, leaning back into the comforting embrace, a long sigh escaping his parted lips.

"It's been a helluva day," Anamaria said simply, her cheek pressed against the soft cotton of Jack's shirt.

"And from the looks of things it will be a helluva night."

"To be sure," she replied with a sigh. "It will take days for those wounds to heal and if we can't bring his fever down there's no chance they will close."

"Then we must do that we can to bring his fever down," Jack told her with conviction. "He won't die…I refuse to allow it."

"Jack…don't do this to yourself…"

At once, Jack stiffened and he turned slowly to face her, crossing his arms lightly over his chest. "Do what?"

Anamaria exhaled loudly in frustration. "For the past four months you've let guilt eat away at you…like you could have done something that haven't already done.. Jack, you're not God, you know! All the events of that world don't begin and end with you and not everything is your fault!"

Anger flared within Jack at once but he would not give her the satisfaction of seeing him riled. "I have no idea what you mean, luv," he told her carelessly.

"What I mean is that Will being on the 'Renegade' wasn't your doing…nor was the fact that he was lost after. I've watched you brood and let you sulk on your dark days but this is out of your hands. You didn't do this to him. If he lives or dies is in God's hands, not yours. You've done more than anyone else would have done. Let it go before it ruins you," she told him firmly, dark eyes blazing at the indifferent expression on his face.

"I promised her I'd bring him back," he replied after a long pause. "And I intend to do just that."

"So this is about Elizabeth?" Anamaria questioned, obviously surprised. Jack thought there might have been a slight hint of something like jealousy in her tone but he couldn't be sure.

"No," he assured her. "This is about two young people who deserve to have a happy ending. I guess I'm going soft in my old age," Jack said wryly, "because I can't ever remember giving a rat's arse about happy endings and fairy tales before I met those two troublesome children."

"Yes, well this ain't no fairy tale, Jack, and you can't write the ending to suit you. We'll do our best because he's a decent lad and he deserves a second chance but there's someone else writing this story. It's all in His hands now."

She was right of course; she usually is, Jack conceded inwardly. Slowly, he let his guard down and his shoulders slumped, one hand reaching out to cup her smooth cheek intimately. Anamaria's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before leaning into his touch. The air between them seemed to ignite and suddenly they were both moving forward into each other…

Until a sharp cry from Jack's bunk shattered the moment and brought them both back to reality with a painful jolt.

* * *

On Jack's bunk, Will's struggle with the pain of his wounds and the demons in his fever-dreams was a horrible thing to witness. Anamaria was at his side at once, but neither her softly spoken words of comfort nor the damp cloth she eased gently across his brow did anything to calm the thrashing boy.

"He's going to injure himself worse if we don't get him to calm down," she told Jack urgently. "If he turns over onto his back he'll undo all my hard work…not to mention the pain it would cause,"

Jack, however, was just glad to see that Will was finally feeling anything at all. For a while there, he'd feared the boy would simply slip away, without ever knowing that he was going home, with no knowledge that fate had once again played Her duplicitous game and thrown them together like She had many times before.

"I'm tempted to bind him to the bed…anything to keep him still," the pirate girl said in desperation. She had one of Will's hands firmly in hers but despite her steady grip, she could not calm his struggles. In his delirium, he mumbled words that made no sense but his eyes never opened. Jack watched, frozen as the boy's face screwed up into a mask of agony, his mouth opening wide to let out a cry that came out as no more than a hoarse whimper.

"Can't you give him something for the pain?" Jack asked sharply, frustrated with his inability to help ease Will's suffering.

"Laudanum…but I'm not sure if I should with him burning with fever like this…"

"Just enough to get him to calm down."

Anamaria looked doubtful. "I'll drop a bit in some water. You'll have to help me give it to him," she told Jack, rising from the stool beside the bunk. "Sit with him while I fix it. Don't let him move around," she warned.

Jack simply nodded and tentatively took Anamaria's place beside Will. For Jack, it was an uneasy situation. He'd never tended someone who was ill or injured before. He'd never been called upon to do so. Such responsibilities usually fell to the more capable members of his crew. Of course he cared if one of his men was wounded; he had a good lot and he was grateful for them, but it wasn't in his nature to hold anyone's hand while they recuperated. But as he watched Will thrash and listened to his soft whimpers of pain, Jack felt his gut clench into a tight knot. Damn, what was taking that woman so long?

"We can't turn him over. We're going to have to wake him so he can help us," the pirate girl told Jack regretfully. "Otherwise we won't get this down his throat."

"Alright." Jack cleared his throat and leaned forward a bit awkwardly.

"Will, lad, open your eyes and say hello," Jack said softly.

Anamaria let out an exasperated sigh. "A bit louder there, Captain. Here, let me try."

Jack shook his head. "Will," he said again, louder this time, "Wake up, son. You've got to help us out here."

Will continued to stir but there was no sign that he'd heard Jack's voice. The pirate captain frowned and reached out tentatively for the boy's hand.

At once Will's eyes flew open and he pulled his hand back reflexively with surprising strength. Startled, Jack nearly fell off his stool.

"Aaron?"

Finally! Some sign that he was not beyond their help. "No, it's Jack, son…Jack Sparrow."

Will blinked groggily, and moaned. "Aaron?" he questioned again, his gaze yet to set upon the man who sat beside him. "Aaron, I…"

"It's Jack, lad," the pirate repeated again patiently. "You're on the 'Pearl'. Your friend Aaron is here too."

"Will, you need to drink this…you've been ill and it will help you," Anamaria told him from where she stood beside Jack. "Come on now, just lift your head a bit…"

With painful slowness, Will turned his head slightly until he could see the pair beside him. Jack watched the look in the boy's eyes go from relief to shock the moment he recognized them.

"Jack?"

Jack tried to smile as an uneasy feeling rose within him despite his initial relief.

"Will, you need to drink this, lad. It will help you. Come on, just…"

"Where is Aaron!" the younger man asked anxiously, ignoring Jack's request. "Have you found him?"

"He's below, with Mr. Gibbs," Anamaria told him soothingly. "He was in need of a bath and a meal, poor boy…he'll be here soon."

The look of utter panic had not fled Will's over-bright gaze. "Aaron…you've got to find Aaron," Will insisted, almost frantically.

Jack and Anamaria shared a look of concern before turning their attention back to Will. Jack gently placed one hand under the boy's head and Anamaria knelt beside him with the cup of water and Laudanum. "Open your mouth, son," Jack coaxed gently. At first, Will's eyes went wide and he struggled, but Anamaria was having none of it. She forced the cup to lips and while Jack held him steady, she managed to get him to drink at least some of it.

"It's Laudanum…it will help you," the girl told him soothingly as she wiped the excess from his face.

"What is that?" Will gasped, the medicine obviously leaving a strange taste in his mouth.

"It's Laudanum," Anamaria repeated patiently. From the look on the girl's face Jack knew that she too was puzzled by Will's odd behavior. He was confused, disoriented. Granted, he was badly hurt and he did have a fever but there was something more in his eyes…something Jack had seen in the boy Aaron's eyes as well. Fear… and panic.

Anamaria continued to wipe his burning face with a cool, wet cloth, gently smoothing his damp hair away from his forehead. Will had calmed down considerably and he no longer thrashed, his eyes drooping slowly until they were nearly closed when he grabbed the pirate girl's hand and squeezed weakly.

"Elizabeth…have you seen Elizabeth?" he slurred thickly.

Anamaria smiled warmly. "Oh yes, she's fine, lad. Just fine. Back with her father, waiting for you to come home to her," she replied at once.

From Will's throat came a choked sound like a sob. "I don't know what happened to her. She might have drowned…I couldn't see her…" he said brokenly, tears wetting his burning cheeks.

"Will, she's fine. She didn't drown," Anamaria told him firmly. "Last I saw her she was in perfect health…"

Despite the girl's reassuring words, Will continued to weep quietly until the effects of the Laudanum dried up his tears and evened out his breathing and he was asleep once more. Anamaria gently covered his still form with a thin blanket and wordlessly turned to Jack, the expression on her face deeply troubled.

"You don't have to say it; I know what you're thinking. Keep a close eye on him. I'm going to find the boy."

* * *

In his first mate's cabin, Jack was disappointed to find that Aaron Smith was fast asleep.

"It was as if he hadn't had food in months. Duncan says he stuffed three bowls of stew down his throat like a starving man," Gibbs told Jack grimly. "The men found him some clean clothes and once he'd had a good scrubbing they brought him back here. He fell asleep almost at once."

"From the state that young William is in, I'd say that neither of them has had a decent meal in a long time," Jack said with a sigh. "Did the boy said anything to you? About how or when they found Will?"

Gibbs shook his head slowly. "Nothing at all. He dodged every question I asked and wouldn't say a thing about the lad. He did ask what would happen to them now, though. I tried to assure him that he's among friends but I don't think he believed me."

"That's to be expected, though. He was badly treated on the 'Lady Jane'. And we're not exactly known for our good deeds, either," Jack replied sardonically.

"Aye, that we're not. We're going to have to gain his trust."

"And fast. I um, I think there's something wrong with young William…other than the obvious of course," Jack said carefully. "He woke briefly but he seemed…confused. It was as if he couldn't understand anything we were saying."

"Jack, the boy has a raging fever and his blood is poisoned with infection! You saw those wounds. My God, he's lucky to be alive! Of course he's confused. It's natural," Gibbs told him with conviction. "It'll be a long while before he's himself again."

"Hmn…maybe."

"There's no maybe, Jack. That boy's been to hell and back. Didn't you see those other marks as well? He'd been shot for sure and that gash on his shoulder is just barely healed. And he's lost half his weight as well."

"Anamaria thought it was odd as well…and you know she's tended as many patients as you have."

"Be patient, Jack. If he makes it through this fever, he'll be right as rain, I promise you," Gibbs said reassuringly. "In all the fuss you never did tell me why we're heading for Tortuga. We don't need supplies and you certainly aren't going to find a better leech there than me or the girl."

"I know. But we need to get Will back to Port Royal and you know as well as I do that we cannot simply sail into the harbor. Norrington may be in our debt but even he'd think that far too bold."

The older man's eyes widened considerably. "Surely you don't mean to send him off with some other ship?"

Jack let out an exaggerated sigh. "One would think that after all these years you'd know me better than that. Of course I'm not going to send him back alone. As a matter of fact, I intend to hand him over, safe and sound to the good Commodore myself."

"You've lost me, lad. How in blazes to you plan to do that?"

Jack grinned widely. "Simple. Since we can't go to Norrington, we'll bring Norrington to us."

Gibbs rolled his eyes and fell back into his chair with a long groan. "I have a feeling I don't want to hear this."

* * *

Aaron Smith came to awareness with a start, the comfortable bunk and warm, clean blankets alerting him at once that he was no longer on the 'Lady Jane'.

"Good morning, son."

Startled by the unfamiliar vice, Aaron bolted upright, the blankets falling back into a heap at his feet. At once, he tried to rise, but he found his legs hopelessly tangled in the heavy wool and cotton, a soft chuckle filling his ears as he tried to free himself.

"There's no need to panic, boy. You're on the 'Black Pearl' and although that might frighten some, I give you my word that you and Will are safe and among friends."

Aaron turned slowly, his gaze coming to rest on the notorious pirate captain, gold teeth gleaming as he grinned, his booted feet propped up casually on the table where he sat. Jack Sparrow had a reputation for being a fierce and bloodthirsty villain, yet Aaron had to admit he's been treated more than fair since coming aboard the 'Black Pearl'. The boy had cringed as he witnessed his former master flogged until the deck ran red with his blood but it was justice done and the lad couldn't fault Jack for it. Not after the abuse that he and Will had suffered.

Will! Jesus Christ, where was he? 

"Where is my friend?" the boy asked at once, fear gripping him once again. "I've got to see Will!"

Jack's smile faded slightly. "He's in my cabin receiving the finest care, I assure you. Did you know that Mr. Gibbs has known Will since he was a boy? He'll make a deal with the Devil himself to keep him alive, of that you can be sure."

Aaron was only vaguely relieved. "How do I know what you're saying is true? Will never mentioned you _or_ Mr. Gibbs. He's not a pirate…he's a blacksmith, he said so!"

"You are correct, dear boy, he is not a pirate. He is indeed a blacksmith, married to a lovely girl called Elizabeth who happens to be the daughter of a very important man. But I can assure you that we do know each other, quite well in fact, and that our friendship has nothing to do with our difference of…profession."

Aaron's blue eyes narrowed. He pushed the blankets away and swung his feet over the side of the bed. "Where are my boots?"

"Why? Are you planning on going somewhere?" Jack asked, swinging his feet down off the table. "You'll have breakfast first. I'll have Duncan bring it to you and then we can see about some new boots. Yours…along with your clothes have been tossed into the sea. Much too filthy for going around the 'Pearl'."

Aaron ignored the insult. "I demand to see Will," the boy said boldly. Inside, his heart pounded like a drum at a voodoo ceremony he'd once witnessed but he hoped that Jack Sparrow could not see his fear. He had to get to Will as soon as possible.

Jack Sparrow chuckled, his dark eyes alight with amusement. "You have nerve, I'll give you that boy. I should be grateful for that, though. I'm guessing that's how you managed to keep young Will alive as long as you did. Aaron, you're going to have to trust me now, boy," Jack said in a much softer tone. "I know you're worried about Will and I promise to take you to him…just as soon as you answer a few questions for me."

"What kind of questions?" Aaron asked, eyeing Jack suspiciously.

"Simple ones like how did Will Turner end up on the 'Lady Jane'?" Jack asked carefully, the look in the older man's eyes warning the boy against anything but the truth.

"We found him floating on a piece of the wreckage of the ship he'd been travelling on," Aaron said reluctantly. "He'd been injured; there was an awful gash on his shoulder and he'd been shot as well. The captain told me to patch him up and get him on his feet and that's what I did."

Jack Sparrow nodded thoughtfully. "So you found him in the sea…that was four months ago. Did your captain plan to give him passage home?"

Aaron shook his head. "He told Will he'd have to work to pay off his debt…for pulling him out of the sea and all," the boy said bitterly. "He said he after his debt was paid could leave him somewhere if he didn't want to stay on."

The pirate captain's expression hardened. "And how long was his indenture to last?"

"Six months."

"So you found him floating in the sea, injured, and he became part of the crew. Did Bell question his identity or his origins? Did he even wonder if someone would be looking for him?"

"No, Will didn't give him no reason to. He didn't tell him much…not as much as he told me. He just said the merchant ship he was on caught fire and exploded. No one cared to question that."

"And what _exactly_ did he tell you that he didn't tell your captain?"

Aaron swallowed hard, cursing himself inwardly for his mistake. "Nothing."

Jack got to his feet slowly and moved closer to where the boy still sat on the bed. "Aaron, if you care about Will, you'll tell me what you know," Jack told him sternly. "All I want is to see him on the mend as soon as possible, so that he can go home to his lovely bride, savvy?"

Aaron nodded sullenly. "Yes."

"Good. So Will recovered from his ordeal and he joins the crew, correct? And then there's that storm you mentioned. Since Will's injuries are recent, I'd say it was that squall a few nights back. You mentioned that the both of you were on deck and that Will disobeyed an order from the captain. A man was injured as a result. Am I right so far?"

"Yes, sir. Only it weren't his fault. Will would never let a man be hurt…even that mean son of a bitch Riley, though he probably deserved it anyway," the boy said in a rush.

"So Will got the lash," Jack said, summing up the rest. "Let's go back to the part where you found Will. Aside from the pistol wound and the gash on his shoulder, was there anything else…wrong with him?"

At once, Aaron stiffened. "No," he said quickly, averting his eyes from Jack's knowing gaze.

"Are you sure, boy? Did he know his name and what had happened to him…things like that?" Jack asked carefully.

Aaron took a deep breath. "He told me that he and his wife were looking for his father. He'd gone missing you see…and the ship they were travelling on caught fire and exploded. The rest I already told you."

Jack crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head slightly to one side. "Son, your're hiding something from me. And if it has to do with young William's well being, you'd best say what's on your mind…now."

"I'm not hiding anything…" Aaron protested, his gut clenching painfully as he said the words.

But before Jack could call his bluff, the door to the cabin swung open, revealing a frantic Anamaria.

"Jack, you'd best come. It's the lad…he's taken a turn for the worst…"

To be continued……………………………….

* * *

Huge thanks to the lovely and talented Elements for speedy beta services!

Reviewer responses (in order of appearance)

Smithy: I'm glad you like the way I've portrayed the characters. I'm trying very hard to keep them as close to the film as possible. Thanks for taking the time to review.

Jack E: Don't worry, Bill will be back;) Thanks for taking the time to review.

Cal: I don't think anything I could say would do justice to that very flattering review. Thanks so much for your encouragement and support. I hope you like this chapter. I have a feeling you will;)

Smithy: You are right on all accounts;) You'll just have to wait and see how it will all turn out. Thanks so much for taking the time to review.

NaryaFire: I think this chapter is a bit longer. Hope you enjoy it! Thanks so much for your continued support and encouragement.

Orlikeiraluv: I'm glad you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks so much for taking the time to review.

MommaB: I hope I haven't made you wait too long. Thank you for your continued support and encouragement.

Staci: I promise that I will fill in all the gaps from all POV's. Thanks so much for taking the time to leave a review.

Ravenwynne: The Edward/James thing has caused a bit of confusion; sorry. I started writing this before the DVD came out and no one could provide Norrington's real name then. I will get around to correcting that soon. Thanks so much for your very flattering reviews.

CrAzY Pigwidgeon: Glad you liked that bit about Will mourning Elizabeth. There's no way he really could have know she was saved so I figured he would have to angst over that. Thanks so much for your continued support and encouragement.

Eleven Fire Goddess: I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I hope you didn't have to wait too long for this update.

Maethril Aranel: Thanks so much for your review! Yes, I'm a huge LotR fan and if I'd had the time to update my favorites list you would have found 50 great stories listed there. Looking forward to reading your new story; keep me posted.

Kiss316: Glad you like a mystery; so do I;) Thanks so much for your review.

Eledhwen: Glad you liked Aaron; I was worried how he was going to come across. It's hard to write original characters that fit in. Thanks so much for your continued support and encouragement.


	15. Part II Chapter 3

The Darkest Hour – Part II

Author – Unplugged32

Rating – PG-13

Classification – Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)

Summary - Four months after Will is lost at sea, Jack makes a startling discovery that will once again send our heroes into a tailspin of uncertainty, danger and of course, angst ;)

Disclaimer – Obviously, the recognizable characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.

Author's notes and reviewer responses – at the end of the chapter

* * *

Chapter 3 

The air in Jack Sparrow's cabin smelled of illness and old blood, the alcohol and strong lye soap that Anamaria had used sparingly during the night doing little to mask the tell-tale stench of suffering and despair. Though way past dawn, the sun remained hidden behind a cluster of dark clouds, the only light in the Captain's quarters coming from thick tapers that burned here and there, their flickering wicks bathing the cabin in eerie shadows.

On his bunk, Jack Sparrow was not surprised to find Will lying on his stomach, his hands and feet loosely restrained with strips of a torn white bed sheet. Deep in the throes of a fever-induced nightmare, words that had no meaning tumbled from the young man's lips, his body twisting as he struggled feebly to free himself from the bonds that held him.

"He's burning up, Jack. I don't know what to do anymore," Anamaria said dejectedly. "Me and Gibbs, we've tried everything we know but his fever won't break."

The pirate girl was exhausted, her delicate features haggard from lack of sleep and worry, her smooth, chocolate skin pasty and dull. Any other time Jack would have sent her packing off to bed with a sly remark about joining her, but no matter how badly she needed rest, Jack knew that neither he nor Gibbs could care for Will without her.

A sharp intake of breath from beside him reminded Jack that they were not alone. The boy Aaron had gone white as a sheet, his huge blue eyes filling with tears when he turned to Jack accusingly.

"Why is he tied like that?" the boy asked angrily, "You said you were his friend…how could you do this?"

"He's tied for his own good, lad," Gibbs replied wearily. "He was thrashing like a madman the whole night through. T'was nothing else we could do."

"But…tying him…"

"Settle down, boy. We're not after hurting him," Anamaria told Aaron gently. "It was the only way to keep him from rolling onto his back. Look, you can sit beside him if you like," the pirate girl said quietly. "Don't know what good it will do but you might as well."

Aaron needed no further urging. Jack almost smiled as the boy hurried forward and perched himself on the stool beside the bunk, swiping at the tears on his cheeks with the back of his hand.

"Jack, I don't want to say this but I fear it's hopeless," Anamaria said quietly so the boy wouldn't hear. "His body burns with fever and the wounds on his back continue to bleed and fill with sickness just as soon as we clean them and bind them. And he's delirious…he speaks but his words make no sense nor does not respond rationally to anything I say…even when I think he's wide awake."

Jack's jaw tightened. "Surely there must be something we haven't tried…"

"Aye, a miracle but even I don't know how to make that happen," Gibbs said grimly. The 'Pearl's' fist mate sighed heavily, one hand moving to scrub at the stubble on his tired face.

"Jack, wouldn't it be kinder to just give him enough Laudanum to take away his suffering and let him slip away quietly?"

"Are you mad, old man? How can you even suggest that?" Jack hissed angrily.

The pirate captain saw his first mate's face sag into an expression of utter hopelessness. "Because we're only prolonging the inevitable, Jack…and the lad doesn't deserve such a painful end. He can't eat, he won't drink…how long do you think he'll last like this anyway?" the older man asked, his voice heavy with regret. "Let 'im go, Jack…while he still has his dignity."

"And is this your opinion as well?" Jack demanded of the ashen-faced Anamaria.

The pirate girl shook her head slowly. "No, but I can understand why Mr. Gibbs would suggest it. I don't think he's going to get any better, Jack…and he's in a terrible amount of pain…"

"It's out of the question. I forbid either of you to even suggest it," Jack stated firmly, his mind racing. There had to be a way to help him. They just hadn't thought of it yet. Turning away from his companions, Jack moved forward slowly towards the bunk, stopping to stand behind the boy Aaron, his eyes fixed on the still figure on his bunk. The young man that lay before him hardly resembled the sturdy, determined lad he's once known. Thick, dark hair had grown long enough to lie between his shoulder blades and where he once had a sprinkling of boyish hair on his upper lip and chin, Will's face was now covered by a scruffy beard making him look much older than his years. Illness and malnutrition had jaundiced his once healthy skin, and his eyes were ringed with purple smudges and sunken deep into their sockets.

"He's going to die, isn't he?"

Startled, Jack looked down at the boy's crestfallen face. "No, he's not," the pirate captain replied resolutely. "Not if I can help it."

"This is all my fault," the boy sobbed wretchedly "I let this happen…"

Jack dragged a chair from behind him and sat down beside the weeping child. "You've said that before…but you've yet to explain why," Jack asked cautiously, afraid to frighten the boy into silence. "How could this possibly be your fault?"

"Because I was supposed to be there…at his side…and I wasn't…"

"Boy, you're not making any sense," Jack replied, struggling to keep his tone even. "Will is a grown man and a fairly adept seaman…why should you have been at his side during the storm? Was he unwell? I thought you said his injuries had healed by then?"

"They had…his side pained him now again but mostly he was fine…" the boy hiccupped.

"Well then why are you blaming yourself for what sounds like an accident? Things happen during a storm. Even the most seasoned sailors can make a mistake. Why was that night any different?"

Aaron's sobs grew louder in response, his thin shoulders hunched forward as a river of tears flowed down his pale face and onto Will's hand where it rested on the cool, white sheet. Until that moment, Will had appeared unaware of the boy's presence at his side despite the heartrending sobs that racked the child's thin frame. But as the tears continued to fall, Jack watched in quiet fascination as Will responded almost at once to the feel of the salty wetness on his burning skin. Bloodshot eyes snapped open and he reflexively tried to pull his hand away only to find it bound at the wrist. A low gasp escaped parched lips as his gaze registered recognition and Will instantly tried to reach for the boy.

"Aaron," he breathed softly, the sound almost drowned out by the sound of the boy's sobs.

"I'm here, Mr. Turner," the boy managed to say, swallowing his tears. "Your friends are taking good care of you. Just rest and you'll be home in no time."

"Where are we?" Will asked hoarsely, his eyes darting to the bonds on his wrist.

"We're on the 'Black Pearl'," Aaron said slowly. "Your friend Jack Sparrow is taking you home," the boy explained carefully, as if he was speaking to a small child. "You're going to be fine now, Mr. Turner."

"Where's Bell? He'll kill you if he finds you here," Will said, clearly agitated, his words bringing an instant frown to Jack's face.

"You're on the 'Pearl', lad, and we're taking you home to your lovely bride," Jack replied with forced lightness. To his great disappointment though, Will didn't even glance his way before his lids slipped shut once again.

"Get yourself away, boy…while you still can," Will slurred, a lone tear running down the side of his face. "…you can't help me now…"

"No!" Aaron cried out. He pushed the stool away violently and sank to his knees beside the bunk. Jack watched frozen as the child patted Will's cheek until he opened his eyes half-way. "We're not on the 'Lady Jane' no more," Aaron insisted, taking Will's chin gently in his hand to turn his face towards him. "You're going home…to Elizabeth.." the boy said firmly. "Home, Will…to Port Royal…"

"…go…he'll come for you…"

"Will, you're going home," the boy repeated stubbornly, ignoring his friend's pleas. Will murmured something that Jack could not understand, his jumbled words followed by a low groan of pain, the harsh sound tearing into Jack's gut like a knife. He watched, sickened, as the young man twisted against his bonds in a feeble attempt to free himself but there was little strength left in his weakened body to struggle.

"Jack, there's something I need to tell you," Anamaria said hesitantly, her eyes darting from Will to Aaron before turning back to him. "You might not want to hear this but..."

"Say what's on your mind, lass. I doubt it can be anything worse than I've already heard this morning."

"Jack…I'm afraid…well, it's possible his mind ain't right anymore," Anamaria said haltingly.

"Why? We discussed this last night…I thought we'd agreed it was the fever that's making him delirious," Jack said sharply, dread settling in his stomach.

"Yes, it is…but I'm afraid, Jack. He's been like this for _too _long. It's not just the past two days you know…the boy said he'd been beaten some nights ago…"Anamaria explained.

"And?"

The girl sighed, pushing a wayward strand of hair away from her face. "And, I'm starting to think that it might be …permanent. I've seen this happen before. The high fever and the poison in his blood from those wounds…it can leave a man…simple. We won't know for sure though until his fever breaks," she said tiredly, "if it ever does, that is."

"No! There's nothing wrong with his mind!" Aaron said fiercely as he jumped to his feet. "It's the sickness…he'll be right again when it's gone…"

Jack sighed heavily and stood, taking the boy by the arm and leading him away from the bunk.

"Aaron, I don't want to admit it but I'm afraid we're going to have to wait to see…"

"No! You're lying! You're all lying! You're just looking for an excuse to not help him!"

"Aaron, calm yourself, you daft boy! You'll wake the lad and he's just settled down!" Gibbs said urgently. "And what's all this nonsense? Do you think that Jack here would go to so much bloody trouble if he didn't mean to save his life?"

"I don't know…I don't trust any of you," the boy said miserably "But he hasn't gone mad and I won't have you saying he has!"

"No one said he was mad," Anamaria said gently, one hand reached out to wipe away a tear from the child's cheek. "But we have to face the possibility that he might not…"

"No! It's only the fever…and the laudanum. He knew me…"

"But he couldn't understand what your were saying…" Anamaria said sadly. "You need to prepare yourself…in case he's not himself when he wakes…I'm sorry…"

"He didn't understand what I was saying because he…" the boy blurted out and then stopped, his eyes going wide as he clamped his mouth shut without finishing his sentence.

Jack felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "Because he _what_, Aaron? What are you hiding from us? I've been very patient, boy, but this has gone far enough. If you know something, now is your chance to tell us," Jack warned.

"I can't," Aaron replied miserably, "I can't betray him!"

"Ah, so you are hiding something," Jack drawled, moving closer to the boy. He could see the fear in the boy's blue eyes but he no longer cared to be gentle in his inquiries. "You're going to tell me what it is because if you don't it could mean your friend's life, savvy?"

By now, the boy was shaking. "What? What do you mean by that?" he stammered, terrified.

Jack threw Gibbs an apologetic look before turning back to the boy. "Mr. Gibbs here thinks Will is beyond our help. With his body wasting away and his mind probably gone, he thinks it's kinder to just let him go…"

Aaron gasped and surged forward, his eyes blazing in anger but Jack caught him by his bony shoulders and held him at arm's length. "I'll kill you if you hurt him…I swear on my mother's grave, I'll kill you!" the boy hissed. "There's nothing wrong with his mind, I tell you! It's not that!

"Then what is it, child?" Jack said, his tone gentler now, "Tell me and free yourself of this burden. What is this terrible secret you are keeping?"

Jack watched tenuously as the expression on Aaron's face slowly went from rage to grief, his unexpected longing to comfort the child nearly overshadowing his need to know the truth.

"I'm sorry, Will," the boy rasped miserably after a long pause. Swollen eyes darted to where his friend lay motionless on the bunk. "Please forgive me…"

"Tell me, son…I promise no harm will come to you _or_ to Will." Jack urged. "Tell me what is torturing you so."

Aaron sniffled, and swiped at his nose with his hand. "It's not him mind. He was like this last time too…when they found him in the sea. He was confused till he was rid of the fever…" he said hoarsely. "He's not mad…please, don't let him die…I'll do anything you ask, _anything_," he said pleadingly, "just help him…"

Taken aback by the desperation in the boy's voice, Jack felt a knot form in his belly. "Calm yourself, child. No one expects anything from you in return for Will's safety," Jack assured him, the pirate captain's voice softening considerably. "He means a great deal to you, does he?"

Fresh tears slid down the boy's cheeks at Jack's words. "He's my friend. The only person who cares if I live or die," the boy replied brokenly. "He looked after me and I helped him keep his secret. I've got no one…just Mr. Turner and I won't let you do anything to hurt him," he finished fiercely.

"I'd cut off my right hand before I'd let anyone harm him, boy… I swear," Jack said softly, surprised when it dawned on him that he actually meant it.

Beside Jack, Gibbs and Anamaria remained silent, their worried gazes locked on the boy as he struggled with his dilemma. Sensing his reticence might have to do with their presence, Jack turned to his two companions.

"Leave us for a few moments," he said simply, his tone allowing no room for argument. Worry made them hesitate but neither of them protested as they finally exited Jack's cabin, leaving Aaron and Jack alone with Will.

"Are you really taking Will home to Port Royal?" the boy asked suddenly, his expression apprehensive.

"Of course. It's where he belongs. His wife and his father are there…I can guarantee you they will be overjoyed to see him alive."

Aaron frowned, his teeth worrying his lower lip until they drew blood. "Are you sure that's what he wants?" he asked finally.

"What do you mean by that, boy? Of course it's what he'd want!" Jack replied, startled by the question.

"And what about me?" Aaron asked tentatively. "What will happen to me?"

Jack crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to one side. "You're free to do whatever you like, child. You can go to Port Royal as well. I'm sure Will can find you something to do there. Or you can stay on with us if you like," Jack told him seriously. "It'll mean you'll be a wanted man but I can assure you no one is taking this ship or Her crew again…not while I'm alive at least. And I don't plan on going any where any time soon," Jack said with a hint of a grin. "The choice is yours and yours alone to make."

"And what if he…dies?" the boy asked, nearly choking on the words.

"If he dies…which he won't," Jack added hastily with conviction, "you are still free to decide where you'd like to go. I'll take you anywhere in the world you choose, no strings attached. I owe you a tremendous debt of gratitude, son, for taking care of young William. He saved my life, you know."

Aaron frowned. "I don't understand…"

Jack nodded. "Remind me to tell you about that some day…he and Elizabeth are very foolish children…but also very brave," he said softly. "But that's for another time. For now, you still have something you need to tell _me_…something important I gather from the way you're trying to keep it a secret."

"I swore to keep it to myself…Bell would have used it as an excuse to throw him back into the sea…" the boy began, his lower lip trembling as he fought back tears. "I couldn't let that happen. Things were fine…until the night of the storm. Will was afraid for me…said I'd be swept overboard and so he forced me to stay out of the way…" Aaron said, the memory of that night clearly torturing the child.

"That bastard Bell told Will to secure the fresh water barrels…I was only a few yards away but I didn't hear him…and then one barrel flew across the deck and a sailor was injured. Bell went into a rage and punished Will…it was awful," the boy said, weeping softly now. "Will said nothing in his defense…he couldn't anyway. Either way, he was damned."

Jack put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder and sighed. "Lad, it's not your fault. I know Will Turner and I'm sure he tried his best…"

"No, that's the thing," Aaron said tearfully. "He didn't try at all."

"Do you mean to say that Will deliberately let the barrel fly across the deck? Because I refuse to believe that," Jack replied accusingly.

"No, of course not!"

"Enough with the games and the riddles, boy! Why didn't Will secure the barrel? Why did he disobey Bell's order to secure it?" Jack demanded angrily.

Aaron paled and his slim shoulders sank heavily in defeat. "He didn't disobey his order, sir. He simply couldn't hear him," Aaron whispered brokenly.

"That's his secret, Captain," the boy said to Jack, his huge blue eyes filled with shame as he betrayed his friend. "Will can't hear."

* * *

Noon found Jack Sparrow on the deck of the 'Black Pearl', deep in thought, the familiar sounds of his crew moving about with quiet efficiency lost upon him as he stared out into the open sea, his mind burdened by the knowledge that they'd run out of options and more recently, out of hope.

Several hours had passed since Aaron's early-morning tearful confession and Jack still hadn't fully come to terms with what he'd learned. The pirate captain found it incredible that the two lads had managed to keep Will's deafness a secret from the sadistic Gregor Bell and his crew for an entire four months. Even more incredible was the courage and the strength possessed by a boy barely in his teens, his determination to protect a total stranger at the risk of his own life either impossibly foolish or simply unbelievably brave.

And yet it had all been for naught, Jack mused bitterly, since Will's life had only been spared long enough to allow for Jack to find him. Not a half hour had passed since Joshamee Gibbs had sought out his captain to give him the latest news; Will had slipped even further away from them, his tether to life nothing more than a fragile thread that would surely break before the next sunrise.

With a long sigh, Jack leaned forward onto the rail and methodically went over the facts in his head. According to Aaron, Will's hearing must have been damaged when the 'Renegade' exploded. He knew little of Will's escape from the burning ship because the young man himself could not remember enough to tell him. Will had been found floating on a piece of wreckage and the only reason that Bell even bothered to fish him out of the water was because they were a man short after Aaron's father had been killed in a freak accident. The rest of the story had been told in between bouts of weeping and most of it was jumbled. But from what Jack had gathered, Will and the boy had cleverly fooled the entire crew of the 'Lady Jane', most of them thinking that Will was probably a bit slow in the head but no one ever suspecting that he was deaf. He worked hard, he did, harder than most the lazy louts that made up the 'Lady Jane's' crew so Bell didn't care if he was dumb, as long as he did what he was told.

It was to Will's good fortune that it had been Aaron who'd been charged with looking after him when they'd hauled him out of the sea. If not for that bit of luck the young man would have probably been tossed right back in the minute he woke and pronounced in a panic that he could not hear. The child though was clever and he'd immediately warned Will against revealing his secret, doing everything in his power to keep the truth from his captain and the rest of the crew. The two lads communicated as best as they could through a crude system of hand signs and with the use of limestone chalk and a slate that Aaron's father hadused to teach the boy to write. As time passed though, if Aaron spoke slowly, Will could actually understand some of what he was saying by the movements of his mouth. The boy's tale astounded Jack, the weight of the responsibility he'd shouldered in order to keep Will from harm almost too incredible to believe. And yet it was true, for Will had survived nearly four months on the 'Lady Jane', following orders relayed by Aaron and keeping out of the way of the rest of the crew who were more than happy to avoid the decidedly strange lad they'd found in the sea.

Earlier, after Aaron had been forcibly fed breakfast and all the tears had been wrung out of him, Anamaria had quietly informed them that Will was no longer responsive to her, not even to the pain of his wounds as she'd cleaned and dressed them for probably the last time. With tears on her face, she'd gently untied the dying boy's bound hands and feet, wordlessly rubbing a soothing salve into the reddened skin that circled his ankles and wrists. A useless gesture, Jack had thought at the time, but he knew that the girl needed to do something - anything - to keep from giving in to despair and so he hadn't uttered a word about the futility of her actions. But later, when she'd gently bathed his face and combed his hair, carefully tying the long, dark strands at his nape, Jack could watch no longer, her actions resembling the preparation of a corpse for burial. Will wasn't dead yet and before the girl could continue her silent ministrations, Jack stayed her hand, gently pulling her away from the bunk, silencing her weak protests with a meaningful look that brooked no argument.

To Jack's surprise, Aaron had been unexpectedly subdued at the news of his friend's dire state, but when he'd assumed his place on the stool beside Will, Jack saw the boy dip his hand under his shirt and remove a sliver crucifix on a chain. Paying no heed to the others present, the child unashamedly prayed to the Virgin Mother to spare the life of his friend, his actions bringing a tear even to the eye of the hardened Mr. Gibbs, who immediately proceeded to excuse himself from the captain's cabin.

"You need to sleep."

Jack didn't bother to turn around. "Is that an invitation to share your bed? Because mine is occupied," Jack said, but his attempt at teasing fell flat, as the only response he received from the girl at his side was a weary sigh.

Jack cleared his throat andturned to face her. "If he dies…" he began slowly, "I won't send a rotting corpse back to his wife," Jack said softly. "What good would come of it? She thinks he died a quick and valiant death in the explosion of the 'Renegade'. There is no reason to cause her more pain with the knowledge that the boy died only after he suffered the agony of thirty lashes and a fever that robbed him of his mind and of his dignity."

Anamaria simply nodded in agreement, reaching out to take the pirate captain's callused hand in her own, rubbing it gently.

"Gibbs and Duncan and the boy Aaron are with him. I promise you, Jack, he no longer feels pain. Let's go and rest…I feel so…weary…" she trailed off, swaying slightly just as Jack caught her in his arms.

"Right then, lass, it's off to your cabin with you" Jack said lightly, one side of his mouth turning up into a half-hearted smile. "Looks like I'll get to take you to bed after all."

Anamaria let out a long breath. "Yes, to sleep, something you need far more than I do, by the way."

Jack tightened his grip on her hand and gave her arm a gentle tug. "And since when do you know what I need?" he asked curiously.

"I've always known what you need," she replied simply, moving away from the rail, pulling the contemplative Captain Sparrow along with her.

To be continued…………..

* * *

Author's notes: This time the delay wasn't my fault! I was without a PC for a while in March due to technical problems and I'm just no good with paper and pen. Next update should come much sooner ;) Many thanks to Ele for input and speedy beta.

Reviewer responses: In order to get this posted as soon as possible I'm going to forgo the individual responses this time but they will be back with the next update. Many thanks to the following people who took the time to review: Smithy, orlikeiraluv, Narya Fire, Jack E, Staci, MommaB, clpm9, cal, Quiet Infinity, Ele, CrAzY Pigwidgeon, kiss316, Starlight1534, ravenwynne and Maethril Aranel. I can't thank you all enough for your wonderful reviews, support and encouragement :)


	16. Part II Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The Darkest Hour – Part II

Author – Unplugged32

Rating – PG-13

Classification – Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)

Summary - Four months after Will is lost at sea, Jack makes a startling discovery that will once again send our heroes into a tailspin of uncertainty, danger and of course, angst ;)

Disclaimer – Obviously, the recognizable characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.

Author's notes and reviewer responses – at the end of the chapter

Chapter 4

Time passed meaninglessly for Will who drifted in a strange, gray place where there was no pain. Sometimes, he felt as if he was floating on the calm, cool waters of some far away ocean, while other times he thought he was lying in an endless field of fragrant green grass so tall all he could see was the brilliant blue sky above him.

Here, there were no memories, no heartache, no torturous injuries inflicted by cruel, violent hands. In this place he was no longer a child abandoned by his father, nor was he a boy who'd lost his mother before her time. The tranquility of this new haven he'd found had wiped away the image of a golden haired girl whose laughter was more beautiful than the sound of all of heaven's angels singing, the uncertainty of her fate no longer a source of torture for his weary soul. All recollections of his existence outside of this quiet sanctuary had faded away, leaving behind a comforting sense of peace to fill the void that had once held the memories of who he'd been before.

How long he'd dwelt here he did not know. Nor did he know where he was supposed to go next. Could he simply remain in the safety of this warm, sheltered cocoon or would he have to move on again? Contemplating this, he noticed a light in the distance; one so bright he thought it must be the sun. Awed by the sight, Will rose slowly, his body feeling heavy and tired, his movements surprisingly sluggish and awkward. Yet he shrugged off his discomfort, the brilliance of the yellow glow beckoning him forward. But as he tentatively approached Will realized it was not the sun, for he did not feel the warmth of it's rays nor did it feel welcoming. Startled, he moved away quickly, deciding that he would not follow that path. Not yet at least.

Disappointed, Will's shoulders slumped and he trudged away in despair. To his great surprise though he saw that beneath his bare feet a new path began to show itself. Hope rose once again and Will followed the stone path, eager to see where it would lead. Through the strange gray mist he hurried until he came to the end of the path, surprised to find it had led him to a door. He reached out tentatively and turned the heavy brass knob, opening it slowly, anxious to see what was hidden on the other side.

The door flung open and Will was pulled forward along with it, falling heavily to the ground from the force. Lying on his side Will blinked rapidly, his eyes slow to adjust to the darkness that now surrounded him. Suddenly, he was gripped by a searing pain that began from his shoulders and ran down to the small of his back. All the beauty and the warmth of his tranquil sanctuary had been torn away by this place of darkness and pain. While he writhed in unspeakable agony, in his mind he could see faces all around him, some smiling, some sneering and he realized that this was no bad dream from which he could wake. Over and over, something that burned hotter than the fires of hell came down upon his back, leaving him mindless and twisting on the cold, stone path.

And then as suddenly as it had begun it was over and Will would have wept from relief had he the power to do so. Slowly the pain began to fade away until it was nothing more than a dull ache. When he could breathe again, he dragged himself through the door once more, shutting it firmly behind him with the last vestiges of his waning strength. Panting from exertion, he leaned up against the solid panel and tried to get his bearings. He was once again in his safe haven. He'd been a fool to try and leave in the first place. What had possessed him to do such a stupid thing?

And yet beyond that door Will had sensed deep within him that there was something greater than simply pain. If only he'd had the courage to discover what it was. _But why should you? _a part of him argued, when all that is peaceful and beautiful could be found right here. Why should he subject himself to such suffering, such agony? What did he really hope to find? He did not know, but the yearning to go through the door once again weighed heavily upon him. He knew not what he would find, nor if it would be pleasant or if he would once again be struck down by the sinister demons with their fiery whips. Yet while his turmoil was great, Will felt almost powerless to resist.

Lost in his troubled thoughts he almost did not notice when a gentle hand was laid upon his shoulder. Startled, he looked up. Through the soft mist he saw the form of a child. The child reached out and clasped Will's hand in his own, tugging him to his feet. Wordlessly, Will obeyed, rising before the child on shaky limbs. He could not see the child's face but through his touch Will felt a great sense of comfort. When the child opened the door, Will did not hesitate to follow him through to the other side.

This time, there was no cruel mob, no violent beating awaiting him, just an overwhelming sense that he needed to find out where the path that was now spreading beneath his feet would lead. At once, Will turned to the child, surprised to find that he was once again alone. Behind him, the door was now closed. He felt a momentary sense of loss for what he'd left behind but it passed almost as quickly as it had come. With a new sense of confidence, Will walked through the fading darkness, never straying from the path, not stopping until he reached a place where the sky was blue and sun shone hotly and the stone path on which he traveled met the sea. Suddenly afraid he had taken a wrong turn, Will quickly looked around to see if there was some other way to go.

To his dismay, Will could see no other path aside from the one on which he stood. For one fearful moment, he wondered if he'd been led here for some new foul purpose. Yet in his heart he felt that this was not the case. Pushing aside his uncertainty, Will stepped off the stone path and into the sea, the cool water a soothing balm on his overly warm skin. He took another step forward and then another until he was submerged to the waist. The sea beckoned to him to continue, drawing him forward until he no longer had the free will to resist, nor did he want to. Even as uncertainty lingered and the loss of his peaceful sanctuary filled him with regret, Will continued to move forward, his heart now leading the way towards the promise of something magnificent waiting to be discovered.

* * *

"Captain! Captain Sparrow, you must wake, sir!"

Jack Sparrow groaned, one eye opening then the other, his unfocused gaze coming to rest on the form of a blue-eyed child standing in the shadows above him, his small face screwed up into a look of sheer terror. Beside him, curled up close on the narrow bunk, Anamaria slumbered still, exhaustion and grief still visible on her delicate features even in sleep.

"Damn you, boy, don't you know you should knock? Especially before entering a lady's cabin?" Jack hissed.

"I did! I have been knocking, sir, for nigh on five minutes!" the boy retorted, trying his best to keep the lamp in his hand steady. "Please, you must come. Mr. Gibbs said I was to call for you and Miss Ana as soon as possible."

Jack sucked in his breath, a heavy weight settling in his chest. Slowly, as to not startle the girl beside him, he swung his feet over the side of the bunk and reached for his boots.

"Is it the lad, then?" Jacks asked slowly. "Has something happened to Will, child?"

Aaron nodded, his eyes filling at once with tears. "But I don't know exactly what. Mr. Gibbs only told me to come for you…he didn't say why."

If Jack had actually believed in God he would have said a quick prayer for the young man's soul. But he didn't…at least not anymore, so instead he turned and gently shook his sleeping companion.

"We've got to go, luv. Gibbs has called for us. Something's happened to Will," he told her quietly as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

Wordlessly, Anamaria let Jack help her to her feet and once she's put on her boots the two pirates hurried after the boy towards the captain's quarters.

"I'm telling you, Jack, I nodded off for no more than quarter of an hour before the boy here starts poking at me, telling me something's happened to Will," Gibbs explained, shaking his head as if he still couldn't believe what had happened. "And then I find the lad soaked to the skin and moving about, asking for water."

Jack's gaze immediately fell upon the now-sleeping young man, his breeches and soft cotton shirt indeed soaked with what Jack assumed was perspiration, his dark hair plastered against his clammy skin. Reaching out tentatively, Jack touched Will's face and was shocked to find it cool to the touch.

"Move out of the way…all of you," Anamaria said firmly and pushed past Jack, Gibbs and the frightened Aaron to have a look herself. Careful not to disturb the sleeping young man, she lifted his shirt to have a look at his bandages and checked his skin as Jack had done. When she turned back to the others, Jack was surprised to see her smooth cheeks were wet with tears.

"Well, what's wrong with him?" Aaron cried out anxiously.

Anamaria gave the boy a shaky smile. "I won't make you any promises, boy. But it looks as if he might just recover after all," she told him softly.

To everyone's surprise, the boy let out a harsh sound and fell to his knees sobbing, his thin shoulders shaking convulsively as he wept. Awkwardly, Jack went down on one knee beside him and patted his back, trying to comfort him.

"Enough of that, boy. The worst is passed now," Jack told him sternly.

Yet the boy continued to weep and the pirate captain said nothing more to deter him. The child had obviously been to hell and back since his father's passing. It was no wonder that the thought of losing Will as well, and now the lad's startling improvement would wreak havoc on the child's emotions.

"I can't believe it," Anamaria said in awe, her gaze fixed on Will who appeared to be in a deep, natural sleep. "When I last checked he was barely breathing, barely alive. How could this be? I'd tried everything…we all did…"

Jack patted the weeping child on the back once more before he rose slowly and moved back to the bunk, his eye catching something familiar twisted in Will's hand.

"Maybe not everything, love…maybe not everything," he said slowly, his mouth twisting into a cynical smile.

The pirate girl frowned and came to stand beside Jack. "What do you mean?"

Jack reached down and gently lifted the object that was twisted in Will's fingers. It was the silver crucifix that the child Aaron had worn around his neck.

From behind them, Jack heard Gibbs gasp and he turned to see the older man cross himself. "Just like I said. Only a miracle could save the lad. And I'm inclined to believe it did 'cause nothing in this world could've," Jack's first mate said with reverence.

Jack let the crucifix fall back against the sheet. "All the same, don't expect me to say any Hail Mary's, old man. I'll leave that to you. Besides, he's not out of the woods yet," he told them cautiously. "Those wounds will take weeks to heal. And then of course there is that other matter…" Jack said, subtly reminding them of Will's hearing loss.

"Aye, but the lad will heal a lot faster now that we don't have a raging fever to battle as well," Anamaria said with relief. She reached out and tenderly pushed Will's sweaty hair away from his face and sighed deeply. "You scared the wits out of us, you did, boy," she said softly, a gentle smile on her tired face.

"Aye," Gibbs agreed, reaching to take Aaron by the arm. "Come along, child, you need a bath and some food. And I could use a few hours sleep. Let's leave the lad to get some rest now."

At once, Aaron protested. "But what if he wakes?" he asked, swiping at the tears on his wet cheeks.

"Go with Mr. Gibbs, boy. I'll be watching over your friend Will. You can be sure of it," Anamaria told the child with infinite gentleness. "It seems as if your prayers and your faith just might have brought him back to us…now it's time for you to rest. You've done your part. Let us do ours."

Nodding reluctantly, the exhausted child obediently followed Mr. Gibbs out of Jack's cabin. Left alone with Anamaria, the pirate captain sank into his favorite chair and sighed heavily.

"Why do I have a feeling that the difficult part begins now?" he asked the girl softly.

Anamaria said nothing as she rummaged through Jack's chest for clean clothes for Will. She didn't need to. Her silence was all the answer he needed.

* * *

Hours slowly melded into days and with each one that passed, the crew of the 'Black Pearl' became more and more confident that Bootstrap Bill's son would live to see his bride and his father once again.

The first few days of Will's convalescence moved along with relative ease as the lad spent most of his time in a natural, healing sleep. His moments of lucidity though were few and Anamaria took every opportunity possible to feed him broth and strong herbal tea as he'd gone far too long without any nourishment. During these times it was hard to tell if he actually knew her or recognized his surroundings but the fact that he allowed her to feed him and tend to him was encouraging enough.

Will's care had fallen solely to her as the 'Pearl' made her voyage into Tortuga. With the lad now on the mend, both Jack and Gibbs had quickly run out of patience cooped up in the captain's cabin and had become more of a nuisance than anything else. As for the boy Aaron, Jack deliberately kept him at his side, giving him simple tasks to perform to keep him busy and out of Anamaria's way. At night though, the child insisted on sleeping beside Will so a bed made of new feather tick found in one of the chests and a pile of blankets had been set up in the captain's cabin for that purpose. Jack had temporarily moved into Mr. Gibbs' quarters without protest, leaving the older man to bunk with the rest of the crew for the time being.

A sound from the bed made Anamaria look up from where she sat at Jack's desk making notes in the journal she and Gibbs used as a guide for the various illnesses and wounds they'd treated over the past year. Closing the book, she rose and went to check on Will who appeared to be in the midst of some disturbing dream. Since his fever had broken Will's sleep had been mostly undisturbed and Anamaria frowned as he twitched agitatedly on the bunk, soft sounds escaping his parted lips. Taking care not to startle him, she sat down on the stool beside him and took his hand in hers, squeezing gently.

"Calm down, lad," she said softly though she now knew he could not hear her words. Will however reacted to her touch and slowly his lids fluttered open, blinking until he could focus on her face.

"Ana…" he said simply and the pirate girl rewarded him with a dazzling smile.

"Where…are we on the 'Pearl', then?" he asked slowly, confusion clouding his face.

Anamaria nodded, and Will appeared to relax. His eyes slipped shut again and let out a long sigh. Assuming he had fallen back asleep, the girl was about to disentangle her hand from his when Will suddenly tightened his grip and his eyes flew open once more. This time though, the confusion had faded only to be replaced by fear.

"Elizabeth!" he gasped, his eyes boring into hers, frantically searching the girl's gaze for answers. "What's happened to my wife?" he asked hoarsely, his terror heartrending.

"She's fine, Will," Anamaria explained slowly, remembering what the child had told them. '_If you talk slow and clear he sometimes understands'. _"She's in Port Royal and that's where you're going."

Will shook his head and squeezed the pirate girl's fingers tighter, his expression still pained. It was obvious he had not understood her words but it was also quite clear that he was reluctant to admit it.

"Wait" She pulled her hand free and dashed to Jack's desk where she grabbed a lead pencil and some parchment. She quickly wrote in clear block letters what she'd tried to tell him. Returning to the bunk she sat down beside him once more and held up the paper so he could read it. Will blinked rapidly, clearing his vision before his gaze settled on the words Anamaria had written. Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes once more and let out a shuddering sob of relief and then another until he was weeping into his pillow unashamedly.

At once, Anamaria reached out instinctively to comfort the weeping young man, her hand moving to smooth the dark hair gently like she would with a small child but her touch only served to increase his heartrending sobs. Reluctantly, she pulled back and waited patiently until his shoulders no longer shook and his breathing had evened and he lay quietly with his face buried in the tear-stained pillow, sleep once more coming to soothe his troubled spirit.

When she was sure he was sleeping soundly, Anamaria rose and made her way back to Jack's desk where she resumed her work. It was a long while though before she could concentrate again, the sound of Will's sobs still echoing in her mind, the uncertainty of the young man's future weighing heavily upon the pensive pirate girl.

To be continued……………….

* * *

Author's notes: You knew I wouldn't let him die, didn't you? I know I'm kind of dragging this out but it's part of the story and it needs to be told. I promise I'm doing my darndest to get our heroes back to Port Royal as soon as possible;) Next up; Will is healing physically but Jack isn't at all happy with the changes he sees in his young friend. Expect a showdown between the two;)

Huge thanks to Ele and nuit for beta and support; hugs to the both of you!

Reviewer responses: Tremendous thanks to all the people who took the time to leave a review. As always, it's you wonderful people who encourage me to write more. Once again I am posting without reviewer responses because I just got home from family trip. My dilemma was this; post tonight without the responses or wait a few days until I sort through all bags lying on our living room floor. I'm hoping that all of you forgive me and accept my heartfelt gratitude for your kindness and your support.


	17. Part II Chapter 5

The Darkest Hour – Part II

Author – Unplugged32

Rating – PG-13

Classification – Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)

Summary - Four months after Will is lost at sea, Jack makes a startling discovery that will once again send our heroes into a tailspin of uncertainty, danger and of course, angst ;)

Disclaimer – Obviously, the recognizable characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.

Beta – Huggles to Elements and Nuit for beta, support, encouragement and friendship.

Author's notes – at the end of the chapter

* * *

Chapter 5 

Will Turner woke to the sound of church bells ringing. Loud and glorious, he heard a symphony of synchronized chimes that reverberated throughout his entire being, the sound so rousing his eyes flew open at once, his lips parting to release a gasp that emanated from deep within his breast and scraped against his raw, dry throat.

But once his eyes focused Will was bitterly brought crashing back to reality, his hands rising at once to cover his damaged ears, the sound fading away into the recesses of his mind, leaving behind only the dull, silent throb of a headache in it's place. There were no church bells, no beautiful, stirring sounds; there was simply nothing at all. Nothing but the lingering taste of laudanum on his tongue and the knowledge that he would spend yet another day in total silence, struggling to keep the pain in his head at bay.

Forcing the feelings of self-pity aside, Will let out a long breath and mindful of his healing back, slowly pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bunk. It was a glorious day he could see, a welcome respite from the foul weather that had plagued their journey and pushed the 'Black Pearl' off her course for Tortuga. Though he assumed it was almost noon, the day was just beginning for him. Near dawn, Will had woken to a blinding headache and he'd been forced to send a sleepy Aaron to find Anamaria. She's reluctantly given him a small dose of laudanum which quickly put him back into a deep sleep yet did very little to alleviate the pain in his head.

How many days had passed since the 'Pearl' had rescued him and Aaron from the 'Lady Jane' Will did not know for sure. He had hardly any recollection of the days he'd burned with fever and was lost deep in the throes of delirium. After, he remembered sleepy days and Ana's strong presence at his side, gently coaxing him to eat and drink and later, to rise from the bed to see to his personal needs and shake the numbness from his limbs. Will had been an obliging patient, obediently following the instructions of the pirate girl with no argument. Most days he'd found it hard to care if he ever rose from his sick bed again but the weariness etched on Anamaria's face was incentive enough for him to quietly acquiesce to her gentle care.

He sighed once more and reached for his boots, pulling them on with difficulty before he rose on still-shaky legs and made his way to the table. There was bread and fruit and some dried meat and cheese on a covered plate awaiting him but nothing appealed to his appetite. He poured some wine from the pitcher into a cup and drank it slowly before he abandoned the idea of food and drink altogether. Instead, he made his way to the basin and splashed some cool water on his face, smoothing down his unruly hair with his wet hands.

How little he recognised himself, he though bitterly, looking into the mirror on the washstand. The young man he saw before him was a stranger to him. His hair had grown long and wild and was streaked with gold where it had been bleached by the sun from his days aboard the 'Lady Jane'. His once swarthy skin looked jaundiced, his eyes sunken and bloodshot, the rings beneath them tinged with shades of purple and blue. Anamaria had offered to shave the beard that now covered his jaw but Will had declined. He did not care for it but somehow it seemed right that he should leave it. He was no longer the eager, naive boy he was and perversely, Will looked upon the harsh, dramatic changes to his appearance as a reflection of this loss of innocence.

Tying his hair back with a scrap of fabric, Will spied the clean shirt that Ana had left for him earlier. Removing the soiled one he wore, Will caught a quick glance in the mirror of the scars that marred his torso and grimaced. The gash on his shoulder was now completely healed and no longer pained him but the puckered scar remained, an angry pink mark against his pale skin. He barely remembered receiving that blow but he guessed it must have been caused by a splinter from the 'Renegade's' shattered mast. The pistol wound below his ribs was another matter though. He would never forget the burning impact of lead into flesh, the memory of that moment made all the worse by the circumstances that surrounded that injury. Upon the 'Lady Jane' a terrified and weeping Aaron had been forced to close the reopened wound with a hot iron. Mercifully, Will had passed out the second the burning rod had come into contact with his side, sparing him from any further misery.

Shrugging the clean shirt over his head, Will stiffly slipped his arms into the sleeves and grimaced. He had no idea what the marks on his back looked like and he had no desire to know either. He guessed he would be scarred for the rest of his life but it did not concern him. In time, the ugly wounds would probably fade to thin, red lines, then white and maybe even darken slightly from the sun but Will knew that even if by some miracle they were to disappear altogether the marks on his soul would remain with him forever. His outward appearance no longer had meaning; a body could heal and scars could fade but the damage that had been done to his spirit could never be repaired. Within the silent world he now dwelled, the young, eager boy he'd once been was forever gone and in his place was different man, one whose body and mind bore the scars of the horrors he had endured, a man who cursed his fate and bitterly questioned the reason for his survival.

So many things had happened since that night that his father had unexpectedly turned up at his shop, so many lives changed, too many hearts broken. Will knew his own had been shattered beyond repair. At first, when he'd been rescued by the 'Lady Jane' he'd clung to a thread of hope that he would eventually be reunited with his bride. But with each day that passed, Will had felt his faith slip away and eventually he had come to the harsh conclusion that he no longer wanted to return to Port Royal. He'd made this bitter decision long before his body had been hideously scarred by the lash; he doubted that his strong, proud Elizabeth would be revolted by the sight of him, no matter how horribly his body was marred. No, his decision had nothing to do with the visible marks upon him, but with the ones on his soul, the ones left behind by the explosion that had forever plunged him into this world of silence, an existence that he simply could not come to terms with, let alone burden his beloved with.

If he was to return to Port Royal, he was sure his bride would welcome him home dutifully but how could he saddle her with the useless man that he had become? The accident on the 'Lady Jane' had only served to confirm what he already knew to be true; he was a pathetic shadow of his former self, doomed to spend the rest of his life a burden on those who loved him. When nearly all the flesh had been ripped from his back and the 'Lady Jane's' first mate cut him down, Will had slipped into a boneless heap onto the filthy deck, his face lying in a warm, sticky pool of his own blood. In that moment, with the coppery smell of blood filling his nose and making him gag, Will knew that he could never go back. If there had been any doubt over his decision to stay away forever it had been wiped away by the harsh reality of his incompetence. When the pain had become too much and the conscious world began to fade, Will fleetingly thought that his time had come, but he did not fight the darkness…he'd welcomed it.

It wasn't to be though and here he was, staring at a ghost of his former self in a smudged mirror and wishing that fate had been kinder and had simply taken his life four months earlier on the 'Renegade'. With Tortuga no more than a day or two away, the thoughts that had tortured him for weeks now were quickly becoming a reality. More than once he'd almost asked Jack if he and the boy could stay on. He hadn't though, mostly because he did not want to appear a coward in the other man's eyes. Oddly enough, becoming a pirate and a wanted man did not frighten him; the idea that Jack would look upon him with scorn for abandoning his bride did.

* * *

Two day later, with the island of Tortuga in sight, Jack Sparrow felt a wave of unexpected apprehension. His plan to send Will and the boy Aaron home to Port Royal would soon be set in motion, but the lad's peculiar behavior and his sullen reluctance to interact with anyone, even the child, had Jack worried.

Since his recovery, Jack had watched Will go through the motions of living like a shadow of his former self. The sight of the once healthy, vibrant young man haunting his ship like a ghost both saddened and angered the pirate Captain. Despite his still fragile health, Will could be found in the oddest places, performing tasks that kept him busy and as far away as possible from the rest of the crew. Jack was fully aware that his handicap made communication difficult but there wasn't a man aboard the 'Pearl' that didn't try in his own way to make the lad feel as comfortable as possible in their company. Despite the efforts though of the sympathetic crew, Will kept to himself, deliberately shutting himself off to the hearing world as if he no longer was a part of the same universe as the rest of them.

His attitude riled Jack to no end.. The lad had been given a second chance at life, a chance that very few people are ever to have and the older man found his behavior to be both selfish and childish. Aaron had previously hinted at Will's reluctance to return to his bride and Jack now had the impression that the boy may be right. Did Will feel less of a man with his hearing gone? Did he wonder how Elizabeth might react to his injuries? Jack could not know for sure what he was thinking, mostly because each time he tried to broach the subject of the arrangements for his return to Port Royal, Will had managed to carefully avoid the pirate captain.

The day before Jack had found a simple note of thanks left on his bunk and Will's extra set of clothes gone from his cabin. According to Aaron, the pair were now bunking with the crew, although none could say they'd actually seen the lad. Jack though had on good authority that Will had waited for the rest of the men to retire to their hammocks before he'd sought his, simply to avoid any unnecessary contact.

And as if he hadn't enough to think about, Anamaria had mentioned to Jack that Will had reluctantly confided to being plagued by headaches, the most recent just two days earlier and apparently serious enough for the younger man to request laudanum. Jack knew nothing of injuries or doctoring but he assumed that Will's symptoms were simply a combination of the lingering effects of his fever, his wounds and his general maltreatment about the 'Lady Jane'. The pirate girl seemed reluctant to let it go as thus but agreed to not make an issue of it, mostly to avoid any further injury to Will's damaged pride.

"Daydreaming, are ye, Jack?"

One side of Jack's mouth turned up into a smirk. "Dreaming of you, darlin'," he replied cheekily, the appearance of Anamaria at his side at the wheel lightening his mood considerably.

The pirate girl crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him with mock anger. "Get you mind out of the gutter, Captain and on your ship or else you'll run us aground instead of sailing us into port."

Jack smiled wide, gold teeth gleaming. "I always said you'd be the death of me, didn't I?"

Anamaria let out an exaggerated sigh and turned to lean over the rail. "We'll be in port by nightfall," she observed, "and you still haven't told me what your plans are. Even you aren't crazy enough to just sail into Port Royal."

Jack chuckled. "Been there, done that. No, we're not going to Port Royal; I'm going to bring Port Royal to _us_."

"Jack, I hope you're not going to do anything stupid…" she warned

"No, I promise, no trouble. It's a simple plan really. I'm going to send the boy Aaron to Port Royal with instructions for Norrington to rendezvous with us and pick up Elizabeth's wayward groom before he manages to get himself into any more trouble."

Anamaria frowned. "In theory, it sounds like a good idea, but what if Norrington doesn't come? What if he thinks it's a hoax or a trap? And why not just send Will and Aaron together to Port Royal?"

Jack's eyes widened. "And risk something happening to the fool lad before he gets there? No, I promised his bride I'd bring him back to her. I'm not taking any chances now. He'll be in my care until I can hand him over to Norrington and that's that," Jack told her firmly. "As for Norrington coming to the rendezvous point, well the good Commodore and I understand each other. He'll be there, of that you can be sure."

"So you're going to send Aaron alone…Jack, he's just a child."

"Aaron will be traveling with one of two Captains that I trust won't want to invoke my ire. And the man who takes the job with be paid a hefty sum of gold to boot. I'm not worried for Aaron's safety. I promise you that I will guarantee it," the pirate captain said conviction. "But Will stays with us, and that's final." Jack turned and glanced around the busy deck and spied Aaron with Gibbs, the pair deep in conversation. "Where is Mr. Turner, anyway? I haven't seen him since yesterday."

"Kursar said he seen him in the brig, fiddling with a broken lock on one of the cells. He's always somewhere, fixing something, keeping to himself," she replied, her straight, white teeth nibbling absently at her bottom lip. "I don't like it, you know…him acting like that, like he ain't really here."

"Yes, he is behaving rather childishly. Quite different from the seemingly fearless boy that I saw face death on the Isla de Muerta and not even flinch. The feisty Elizabeth will not be pleased to see him like this," he mused, one hand absently stroking his mustache. "You know, I've had a thought. Could I borrow your sword, darlin'? And send the boy to find Will. I want to see him here as soon as he finds him, savvy?"

Anamaria reluctantly handed her sword to the pirate captain. "I don't know what you're up to, but there better not be any injuries to tend to because if you two wound each other, I'm of a mind to let the pair of you bleed to death."

* * *

Waiting for Jack on the deck of the 'Black Pearl', Will Turner stared across the calm waters of the Caribbean dully, the sight of the tiny speck of land on the horizon making his gut twist. "So this is where it all ends and begins," he thought to himself with irony. The tiny island would once again be the place where plans would be made and lives would be changed. The last time he was here, his heart had been filled with dread at the prospect of never seeing his beloved again. Now it seemed he felt the same dread weigh down his heart, but for completely the opposite reason.

He could not hear the other man's approach, nor did he sense it; the gentle roll and sway of the ship, the busy chaos upon the 'Pearl's' deck did not allow for that ghostly sixth sense that seemed to have kicked in after he'd lost his hearing to pick up the pirate captain's presence behind him. So when he'd felt something cold prod his overly sensitive back, Will let out a sharp gasp and whirled around at once.

The older man had an odd expression on his face, his gold and white teeth hidden behind tightly closed lips, a sword in it's scabbard extended towards Will.

Confused, Will raised one brow in question. "Aaron said you wanted to see me," he said softly. Since he could no longer hear his own words, Will had become extremely self-conscious, avoiding conversation unless it was absolutely necessary. On the rare occasions that he did speak, the young man was careful to keep his voice as low as possible, his words simple.

The pirate captain indicated the sword that he held. "Take it," he said, and although Will could not hear Jack's voice he understood him from the way he'd carefully formed the words and the older man's gestures.

Startled by his request, Will accepted the sword and watched, bewildered, as Jack unsheathed his own sword and assumed a defensive stance.

"What are you up to, Jack?" Will asked wearily, transferring his grip from the scabbard to the hilt of the light sword he held. He did not know who it belonged to but he guessed it could be Anamaria's simply by it's weight.

Will studied the older man's mouth as he replied. To Will it appeared as if Jack had said he needed practice. "Practice?" Will scoffed and Jack nodded. "You know I'm as good if not better that you, Captain."

Jack nodded and smiled a lazy grin. "Prove it."

Will shook his head and made to set the sword upon the polished deck but Jack stopped him with the tip of his sword upon Will's wrist. "No," Jack said firmly and there was no mistaking the word.

Frustrated by Jack's insistence, Will had no choice but to remove the well-crafted sword from it's scabbard. With the utmost, care he laid its sheath on the deck as to not damage it. Will's respect for the weapon and its craftsman increased as he studied the blade, his experienced eye noting that it was nearly flawless. At another time, a dozen questions regarding it's origin would have tumbled forth with unrestrained enthusiasm. Yet Will said nothing, admiring in silence the fine weapon with a tinge of envy.

Jack did not wait for Will to raise his sword before he lunged at him. Steel met steel as the younger man's instincts took over, but he fought half-heartedly, a fact that seemed to make Jack become even more aggressive. Over and over he attacked and Will defended himself yet with no real skill or enthusiasm. His back pained him as well, the healing scabs cracking and pulling as he parried sloppily, remaining on the defence and deflecting the swing of Jack's sword as the older man continued his relentless assault.

It didn't take long before Will found himself begin to tire. His body ached in various places and sweat dripped over his brow and into his eyes, blurring his vision for a fraction of a second but it was long enough for Jack to take advantage of his weakness. Stunned, Will felt the fabric of his shirt split and a trail of fire spread from his collarbone to breast. Instinctively, the younger man lunged, his sword nicking the pirate captain on the forearm before he dropped his weapon in horror, the sight of blood staining his friend's white shirt causing regret and remorse to burn hot in his belly.

"Jesus Christ! Jack, I'm sorry…"

"Pick it up," Jack told him carefully, indicating the fallen weapon, his sweaty face flushed with anger. Will sensed his ire though had nothing to do with the cut on his arm. Around them, Will saw members of Jack's crew watching them curiously, yet no one dared come close to the pair.

Breathing hard, Will shook his head. "No."

Jack said something that he could not decipher but Will ignored him, wiping the sweat from his face on his forearm and taking slow, deep breaths to stay the pain of the irritated wounds on his back. Blood dripped freely from the shallow cut on his chest, staining his shirt and the waist of his breeches a dark crimson but he seemed not to notice. With obvious reluctance, Jack sheathed his sword and moved forward, one hand reaching towards the wound he had inflicted upon the younger man. To Will's shock, Jack ran one finger over the gash with deliberate cruelness, his face an unreadable mask as he pulled back, his hand stained with Will's blood.

"Does that hurt?" Jack said very carefully. Still stunned by the other man's actions, Will wasn't quite sure what he had said until the older man repeated himself, slower this time.

"Well, boy, does it hurt?"

Will nodded slowly in reply, the fiery pain on his chest slowly reducing itself to a dull throb.

"Good," Jack told him, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. "You bleed," he said, indicating the blood on his finger, "and you feel pain, therefore you are still alive," the pirate captain said, repeating himself for good measure. Will's jaw tightened at the implications of the other man's words. He did not need Jack Sparrow to remind him that he was alive. His misery and his battered body reminded him of that fact day after day.

"You are still alive, boy," Jack repeated, his dark, angry gaze meeting Will's as he wiped the blood from his fingers on the sleeve of his shirt, the precious liquid mingling at once with the pirate's own blood that continued to drip unnoticed from the cut on his arm.

"You are _alive_. Now start acting like it."

* * *

In a smoky pub on Tortuga, sometime after midnight, Jack Sparrow sipped his ale leisurely and waited for the other man to consider his proposal.

"So let me get this straight, Jack. You're offering to pay me a fortune in gold simply to take this boy…Aaron you say… to Port Royal? I'd 'ave taken him for free you know. I'm headed there anyways."

Jack's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the man who sat across from him. "Not simply to take him. I'm paying you a fortune in gold to take this boy to Port Royal as quickly as humanly possible and then once you've arrived I expect you to personally escort him to Commodore James Norrington where he is to deliver an urgent message, savvy?"

Samuel Black rubbed the stubble on his chin and frowned. "I'm not particularly fond of the good Commodore… nor is he of me for that matter," the older man said skeptically.

"You have my personal assurance that Norrington will forget any grievances you two might hold against each other once he reads my letter. Besides, your ship has its papers; he can't touch you."

"I dunno, Jack…"

"Listen, it's urgent…you could say it's a matter of life or death even and I can't simply sail the 'Pearl' into the harbor now can I? You're the only man I trust to do this, Samuel and I'm hoping that you won't disappoint me."

The older man raised one brow. "The only man?"

Jack grinned. "One of two actually, but you're here and he's not and so fate says you get the gold."

The older man sighed and finished his drink. "I guess asking what this is about would be pointless."

"Yes actually, it would be."

Samuel nodded and stood. "Bring the boy to the 'Siren' as soon as you can. I was planning on leaving at dawn."

Jack rose and clasped the older man's hand. "I appreciate it, mate. And I won't be forgetting this…I promise."

"Aye, and I won't let you forget it; of that you can be sure," Samuel said with a chuckle.

"Fair enough. But remember; this is a situation of the utmost urgency. Keep the boy safe and make sure you leave him in Norrington's care. I won't forgive any mistakes… friend or not," Jack warned evenly. "This is a personal matter and if it's bungled you can be sure I will take it personally."

"You're going to make me change my mind if you keep carrying on like that…"

Jack let out a short laugh. "You won't change your mind. Even if you wanted to, curiosity has already gotten the better of you. You'll go and I'll make it more than worth your while."

Samuel grinned slyly. "That you will. Right, I'm off then. Bring the boy to the ship straight away. He'll bunk with my first mate so you won't have to worry about his safety."

Jack smiled, gold teeth gleaming as he did so. "I won't be worrying; you will. That boy is very special. Treat him as if he were yer own and I won't _ever_ forget your cooperation."

To be continued………….

* * *

Author's notes: I have no real excuse for taking so long to post, especially since most of this section has been written for ages. I've just been very busy and every time I tried to edit the chapter, I found myself too tired and too sleepy to do so. Please accept my apologies and my heartfelt thanks for sticking with me. I've heard that the site administrators have warned other authors about replying to their reviewers. Although I personally haven't been contacted by anyone, just to be safe I will no longer reply to reviews here. If you'd like a reply, please leave your email address with your review and I'll do my best to send responses via email from now on. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story. Your encouragement and enthusiasm for the story is both touching and inspiring. Thank you all! 


	18. Part II Chapter 6

The Darkest Hour – Part II

Author – Unplugged32

Rating – PG-13

Classification – Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)

Summary - Four months after Will is lost at sea, Jack makes a startling discovery that will once again send our heroes into a tailspin of uncertainty, danger and of course, angst ;)

Disclaimer – Obviously, the recognizable characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.

Beta – Huggles to Nuit and Elements for beta, support, encouragement and friendship.

Author's notes – at the end of the chapter

* * *

Chapter 6

The early days of April found Elizabeth Turner spending most of her mornings in her garden, her golden hair tied haphazardly away from her face, her slim form clad in her oldest and most serviceable dresses. It was late for planting spring flowers but Elizabeth had only just felt the inclination to do anything out of doors despite the lovely weather that had graced Port Royal for the past few weeks. Winter in the Caribbean was never actually cold but this year the season had seemed drearier than any Elizabeth could remember, the rainy mornings and starless nights a mirror of her own bleak state of mind. But when the last of the winter showers had faded into memory to be replaced by warm, sunny days Elizabeth found the weather too glorious to resist, despite her gloomy disposition.

Grabbing her basket of seedlings, she made her way to the other side of the veranda to continue her pruning and planting. The garden had been the only thing she'd neglected since she'd moved into the house 2 months earlier. At the time, the house had still been unfinished but with the help of her father's house staff and a local carpenter it took less than 2 weeks to put the final touches on the interior and less than that to finish the outside of the house. When it was done and all the workers had finally gone away, Elizabeth Turner had stood outside the home her husband had purchased for her and wept until she could no longer stand from the weight of her grief.

Kneeling on the soft earth, Elizabeth set her basket down beside her and sighed deeply. Unwittingly, she found her thoughts wandering back to those horrible early days following Will's death. On her return to Port Royal four months earlier Elizabeth had eagerly fallen into her father's comforting embrace and returned to her childhood home to be cared for by an army of concerned staff and family friends. For days she simply lay in her bed, going through the motions like an invalid, taking her meals in her room and hiding from the outside world, her maid Kerry hovering over her grieving mistress like a mother hen, never leaving her side for more than a few moments at a time. Yet Elizabeth barely noticed the girl's presence, the shock and the pain of her loss so devastating she was hardly aware of the passing of one day into the next.

Then one morning her father had come to announce that Elizabeth had a visitor. The Governor found his daughter sitting listlessly by the window, the drapes mostly closed against the sunny day that had dawned just beyond the somber coverings, his heart heavy with sadness at the state of his only child. Elizabeth, pale and thinner than was healthy, had barely acknowledged his presence, a fact that pained her worried father greatly.

"There's someone to see you, my dear. I'm not sure if it is at all proper but you are a grown woman and I think it's your choice if you should visit with him or not."

Unmoved by her father's words, Elizabeth let out a weary sigh. "I have no wish to visit with anyone, father. Please tell them to go away."

"I don't think I should, at least not until you know who he is and why he's come."

"Father, please…"

Weatherby Swann let out a long sigh. "Elizabeth, it's William's father who has come to call," he told his daughter carefully. "He's brought something for you. He says he wishes to give it to you in person."

At once, Elizabeth felt as if all the wind had gone from her lungs and for a moment she feared she would faint. Will's father. How could she face him and not fall to pieces?

And yet how could she not, she'd thought dully. She was not the only one mourning Will; submerged in her own grief and self pity she had barely thought about Bill Turner and what had become of him upon their return to Port Royal. Strangely enough she felt no resentment to the man whose sudden reappearance in Will's life had ultimately brought about his death; there was no doubt in the girl's mind that she would have done exactly the same thing had it been her father's life in danger. No, she could feel no bitterness towards the older man, only a deep sadness for the loss of his son for the second time in his life.

After a brief moment to compose herself, Elizabeth had followed her father down the stairs and into his study where a very haggard Bill Turner waited nervously in a chair by the fire. As soon as she'd entered the room, Bill rose at once, his dark eyes downcast as she approached with her father at her side. Oddly enough, it was as if she was seeing him for the first time. All of a sudden she was struck by the resemblance that he and Will shared, the same prominent cheekbones, the strong jaw, even the same slightly bow-legged stance. If not for the deep lines marring the older man's face she was sure she would have found more similarities in their appearance. The likeness nearly stole her breath and Elizabeth felt the need to look away.

It was at that moment that she'd realized that she did not know this man who was her husband's father. She couldn't recall actually having a full conversation with him. Not even during their trip back to Port Royal on the 'Dauntless' had they spoken more than a few words to each other. The fact that she'd never had a chance to truly know the man that had sired her husband only added to the heavy sadness within her heart.

"Miss Elizabeth," Bill said softly. "Pardon my intrusion but there is a matter I needed to discuss with you…" Will's father said tentatively.

Elizabeth simply nodded and tried to smile with little success.

"Look, I won't keep you," Bill had told her then, "but I have something for you." Her father-in-law reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a packet of papers.

"It's the deed to your house, lass. Take it, it's yours, fully paid for. I used my own savings, gold that would have been my wedding gift to my son anyway. My boy wanted you to live there. He put his heart and soul into that house…for you…and it's only right that it should be yours."

"Mr. Turner," her father began, "We're very grateful for your generosity but Elizabeth already has a home…"

Bill Turner shook his head slowly and met Elizabeth's shocked gaze. "Please, just take it and when the tears are gone and the hurt is more bearable, live there and be happy…and remember that my boy loved you," he'd told Elizabeth, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "If you ever need anything, or even if you'd just like to visit, you can find me at the shop. I hope you don't find it too bold that I've taken it over. I don't know much about working with metal but I have a young man helping me out. It seemed like the right thing to do…"

Wordlessly, Elizabeth had taken the deed from her father-in-law's shaking hand and without any further discussion Bill Turner was gone, leaving her clutching the packet of papers close to her heart, silent tears rolling off her cheeks and falling upon the stiff parchment in her hands.

Even now, all these months later, Elizabeth felt the sting of tears in her eyes and she remembered Bill Turner's visit. She hadn't seen him again after that, not even in passing and she regretted that deeply. She often wondered if he was well, but her heart had not yet healed enough to face another visit with Will's father. Soon though, she promised, soon…

The sound of an approaching carriage brought Elizabeth back to the present and she rose, quickly wiping the wetness from her eyes with the back of her hand. Not one carriage but two, she noticed curiously, both familiar and both wholly unexpected. When they reached her drive the carriages rolled to a stop. To say she was surprised was an understatement. Driving the Commodore's carriage was George Whitcomb. The young man quickly climbed down from his seat to open the door for Norrington. The Commodore stepped out, followed by a young boy that Elizabeth did not recognize. There was a short pause before another figure emerged from the Commodore's carriage, a man apparently by his height and build, but he was covered from head to toe by a woolen cloak. At once Elizabeth thought his attire was bizarre, as it was entirely inappropriate for the day's heat.

From the Governor's carriage Elizabeth saw the driver offer her father assistance. The older man exited slowly and Elizabeth felt her breath catch at the sight of her father. Today he appeared so much older than he had when she'd seem him earlier in the week, his movements slow, almost pained. She made a mental note to speak to his physician about his health at the first possible opportunity.

Moving forward to greet her visitors, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel trepidation. Something odd was surely afoot. It was unlike Norrington to call unannounced and certainly unusual to receive visitors at this time of day. Wiping her hands on her apron, she met the Commodore half way and hoped she didn't look too much like a street beggar.

"This is certainly a surprise, gentlemen. I fear you have found me in a state of total disarray. I was…gardening," she explained, her cheeks coloring slightly. Normally she did not care for people's opinions but suddenly Elizabeth felt as if she was under the intense scrutiny of her visitors.

"If I may be so bold as to say, you look as lovely as always, Elizabeth," Norrington told her fondly but Elizabeth was sure she sensed something amiss in her dear friend's manner.

"Father, to what do I owe the pleasure? Won't you come in for tea or will we stand around in the garden baking in the sun all afternoon," she said with forced cheerfulness.

"Yes, I think we should go inside," the Governor replied after a short pause. "The Commodore and I have something we'd like to discuss with you, my dear, and it's best if we were to do so in private."

Elizabeth nodded. "And what of your companions?" she inquired carefully, her gaze once again resting on the cloaked figure beside George Whitcomb. "Won't they join us for tea as well?"

Norrington frowned slightly. "Yes, I suppose they will," he replied reluctantly but before the Commodore could extend an invitation to the group, the cloaked figure threw off his disguise in once fluid movement, his actions bringing an immediate hiss of protest from Norrington.

At once, Elizabeth felt her throat constrict as she recognized the Commodore's mysterious companion. She took two steps forward and stopped, her surprise so great she suddenly felt unable to move any further.

"Jack," she breathed simply, her heart pounding and her mind racing at the sight of the pirate captain standing in her garden, a wide grin on his darkly tanned face.

"Hello, love. I'd bet my ship you'd never expected to see the likes of me again."

Dumbstruck, Elizabeth could only nod in response. What on earth was Jack Sparrow doing with her father and Norrington?

"Elizabeth, it's probably best if we go into the house where all of this can be explained properly," he father began, but she wasn't listening. Instead, she took a few more shaky steps until she was standing directly in front of Jack.

"You are correct, Captain, in your assumption," she told him quietly, "but I must admit that I am rather pleased to see you."

At once, the cheeky grin faded from Jack's face. "And why would that be, lass?" he inquired curiously.

"Because I owe you an apology," Elizabeth said with sincerity. "I had wrongly accused you upon our last meeting and I wholly regret my words, sir. I can only hope that you might forgive me for my abhorrent behavior."

Beside Jack, George Whitcomb coughed self-consciously. He discreetly took the unknown boy by the arm and moved away, affording Jack and Elizabeth some measure of privacy for their conversation.

"There's nothing to forgive, love. You didn't do or say anything that you need to absolve yourself for, lass," Jack replied softly. In his eyes Elizabeth saw a gentleness she's never before seen and she suddenly felt herself blush under his gaze. YES..

"Although I am glad to see you, it's obvious this is no simple social call. What mischief brings you to my home, Captain Sparrow?" she asked lightly even as her heart pounded in her breast.

"Elizabeth, my dear, I think this conversation is better suited for the privacy of your parlor and not out here…" the Governor said, shooting Jack a dark look of disapproval.

Ignoring her father, Elizabeth turned to the boy that shifted nervously beside George Whitcomb. "And who is this fine young man, Mr. Whitcomb?" Elizabeth asked with a smile.

"His name is Aaron, Miss Elizabeth…I mean Mrs. Turner…" George said, his face reddening at his faux pas.

"Just Elizabeth, George," the girl said fondly. "After all we've been through I'd like to think we are friends."

George smiled shyly. "Of course…Elizabeth…please accept my apology."

Elizabeth gave him a brilliant smile in return and then turned to the child. "Hello, Aaron," she said, extending her hand to the boy. "I'm Elizabeth."

The boy started at her in obvious wonder, his hand shaking visibly as he took hers. "You're even more beautiful than he said you were," the child breathed before he dropped his hand and his gaze in embarrassment.

Surprised by his outburst, Elizabeth raised one brow. "Which one of these rogues said that?" she asked teasingly. But when the boy didn't reply, Elizabeth turned to Jack, goose bumps rising on her flesh as her eyes met the pirate captain's dark gaze.

"Jack, what's going on here?" she asked slowly. Something was wrong; Elizabeth could feel it down to her bones. Norrington did not speak, her father looked ready to strangle the pirate captain and George was now fidgeting as much as the child.

"Lass, I've got something to tell you…to show you actually," Jack told her slowly. "It might come as a bit of a shock so I'm thinking that we should go inside like yer father suggested…"

"I'm not going inside or anywhere until you tell me what in God's name is wrong with all of you. Has something happened in town? Pirates again? Is that why you're here, Jack?" she asked in a rush, even though she knew none of it was true.

Jack didn't reply. Instead, he walked over to her father's carriage where he leaned in and said something she could not discern. Seconds later to her complete surprise her father-in-law emerged, followed by a bearded young man she did not recognize. That is, until he raised his eyes, and she saw his face clearly.

_"**You're even more beautiful than he said you were,"**_

The child's words echoed in her brain as she stared, dumbstruck, one hand reaching out only to fall back to her side, her entire body feeling boneless. The air in her lungs suddenly disappeared and she found herself struggling to breathe when Jack rushed forward to take her arm. "Easy, lass," he whispered and then her father was at her side, pushing Jack away angrily but Elizabeth did not hear their heated exchange. She heard nothing at all actually, not even Norrington's distraught cry when he caught her as she fell.

* * *

Awareness came slowly and when it did, Elizabeth Turner found herself lying on a chaise in her parlor staring directly into the concerned gaze of her long-time friend, James Norrington. The Commodore was on one knee beside her, his face tight with concern as he patted her hand gently, urging her to open her eyes. Next to the Commodore, her maid Kerry wiped a cool cloth over Elizabeth's forehead, the young girl's eyes suspiciously red and damp.

"James?" Elizabeth whispered, momentarily confused. That is, until she saw the worried face of Jack Sparrow over the Commodore's shoulder.

"Praise the Lord," the pirate captain said, his face splitting into a cheeky grin. "You had us all worried, love. You've been out cold for near quarter of an hour. I never thought you were the swooning type, you know, but I'm guessing the shock was simply too much…"

"Captain Sparrow, I think that's quite enough for the moment," Norrington said firmly, and Jack raised his hands in mock surrender, immediately taking two steps back. Her father appeared then, a glass of water in one hand and a tumbler of brandy in the other.

"Help your mistress sit up, Kerry," the Governor commanded and the girl jumped to do his bidding, reaching out to put her arm behind Elizabeth's back and gently lift her up while Norrington reached for a pillow to place behind her. Her head still spinning in confusion, Elizabeth allowed the trio to fuss over her, accepting the water gratefully but rejecting the brandy. Yet when she saw the dark-haired figure slumped in a chair by the window she immediately reached out for the tumbler and took a long drink, the fiery liquid burning her throat as it went down.

It was Will. And yet it wasn't, she thought distractedly. He looked nothing like the boy she loved but it was undoubtedly and miraculously him. His father, George Whitcomb and the child, Aaron, were nowhere to be seen and he sat there, alone, staring out the window as if he was wholly unaware of the commotion going on behind him. If she was disappointed that he was not by her side she was too overwhelmed by the simple fact that he was alive to dwell on anything else. Will, her husband, the love of her life, alive and well and sitting in her…no, _their_ parlor, just a few feet away from her.

"Elizabeth, there are many things to be explained, questions to be answered but first I need to tell you something…something that might distress you somewhat," Norrington said softly. He glanced over to where Will sat silently and then back to Elizabeth, his expression anxious.

"Just tell me, James. I doubt anything you could say would shock me at this point."

Norrington let out a long sigh. "There's no reason to tiptoe around this. Elizabeth, while we can thank the good Lord for returning Will to us I'm afraid that the explosion on the 'Renegade' has damaged Will's hearing. I'm no physician but from I have discerned myself and from what Captain Sparrow has told me, it appears as if Will has been rendered fully deaf."

At once relief washed over Elizabeth and she let out the breath she'd been holding. That at least explained why Will appeared to be indifferent to their conversation. "I thought you meant to tell me something much worse, actually," she said shakily.

"No, thanks to Captain Sparrow and his crew, Will's other injuries have healed and his health is nearly fully restored," Norrington conceded grudgingly.

Elizabeth's heart skipped at beat as Norrington said 'other injuries' but she pushed the thought aside for the moment and turned towards Jack. "I'm guessing then, Jack, that the reason you are here is that it must have been you who found him."

Jack Sparrow smiled, gold teeth gleaming. "The good Commodore and I met up a few days past…amicably of course, and declared a truce of sorts," Jack said cheerfully. "I told you I'd bring him back to you, didn't I, love?" he said, reminding her of the promise he'd made to her all those months ago.

Elizabeth nodded slowly, remembering the horrible moment that Jack had made that vow and their subsequent furious confrontation on the deck of the 'Pearl'.

"Explanations will have to wait until later," she said finally, swinging her legs over the side of the settee and smoothing down her rumpled skirts before she stood on shaky legs. "Although I'm sure there is a fascinating story behind your reunion with the Commodore, this is not the time," she said firmly.

"Now if you could all excuse us for a bit, I think it's time I welcomed my husband home."

To be continued……………….

* * *

Author's notes: So it's taken me forever again, but I'm still here, still interested in finishing this story, still very grateful to my readers. I've used the new 'reply' feature to respond to all the signed reviews. If you didn't get a response from me please let me know. Cal, Momma B and Smithy; I couldn't respond to any of you personally because you weren't signed it but please accept my heartfelt thanks for your continued support. It means so much to me:)


	19. Part II Chapter 7

The Darkest Hour – Part II

Author – Unplugged32

Rating – PG-13

Classification – Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)

Summary - Four months after Will is lost at sea, Jack makes a startling discovery that will once again send our heroes into a tailspin of uncertainty, danger and of course, angst ;)

Disclaimer – Obviously, the recognizable characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.

Beta – My love and appreciation to Nuit and Elements for beta, support, encouragement and friendship.

Author's notes – at the end of the chapter

* * *

Chapter 7 

It didn't take long for the house to empty, leaving Elizabeth alone with Will for the first time in months. Shock and wonder made her knees feel weak but there was nothing that could stop her from walking swiftly across the room to where her husband sat slumped in an armchair, his eyes fixed on something outside the bay window.

Lowering herself onto the cushioned window seat across from him, Elizabeth met Will's gaze with hope shining in her eyes and in her heart, the miracle of her husband's return almost too incredible to believe. But her shy smile faded and a knot formed in her belly at the expression on Will's face, the defeat in his eyes almost too painful to look upon.

"I find that I am at a loss for words…I don't know what to say or even if you can understand me but…"

"Speak slower," Will said finally, cutting off her nervous rambling, "for as you probably already know I cannot hear anything aside from the ringing in my ears," Will told her bitterly, his voice sounding unfamiliar and harsh.

Elizabeth nodded slowly and reached out to take his hand, holding it tentatively in hers as if for the very first time. "I don't know where to start," she told him carefully, "It's been so long and I…dear God, Will, I've missed you so much…this is all such a shock and a miracle…"

"Elizabeth, please, I…I cannot understand, you must slow down…" he told her, shame evident on his face.

"I'm sorry. I…I suppose this will just take some time," she stammered. "But we'll manage, you'll see, and everything will be fine."

In response, Will said nothing, but this time she knew that he had understood her. There was so much pain and sadness, she thought, reflected in her husband's expression that it terrified her, made her heart freeze in apprehension. It hadn't occurred to her even for a second that things would not be as they were before. Had their separation affected his feelings for her? Suddenly Elizabeth felt foolish and confused and she let his hand slide out of hers and she straightened.

"Will, I realize that we have much to discuss," she said carefully, "but we need to start somewhere…"

"Elizabeth, you need to understand something…something vitally important," Will said suddenly, not meeting her gaze. "I am no longer the same person you knew," he said slowly, clearly struggling with what he wanted to say. "I fear...I fear that my…disability…" He stopped and cleared his throat nervously. "What I want to say is that I think the best thing to do…the best course of action would be an annulment. My condition will only bring shame to you and your father and….and I don't know if I will be able to provide for you, if my hearing loss will prevent me from earning a proper living and…" Will said trailing off miserably.

Stunned by his words, it took Elizabeth a few moments to comprehend what he was telling her. After all they'd been through, after all the time they'd lost, she couldn't believe that Will was planning to end their marriage before it had even begun. Anger, shock and indignation churned in her belly in equal parts and she had to fight the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him.

"An annulment? Because you will shame me and because can't 'provide' for me?" she said incredulously. "Mr. Turner, I did not marry you nor would I have married any man in order for him to _provide_ for me," she said indignantly. "My mother saw to it that I would never have to depend on any man, husband or father, for my welfare. And furthermore, I'll have you know that I have applied to the parish for a teaching job, a position I hope will be offered to me in the fall. So now you know, Will, that I never needed anyone to provide for me…only to love me," she told him furiously. "Tell me you no longer want me, that your love has faded but don't you dare tell me that you're dissolving our marriage for my own good!" she hissed before she stalked off, leaving him to watch numbly as she hurried out the front door, slamming it loudly behind her.

She had no idea if he'd understood her, but at that moment Elizabeth didn't care. Her anger and her disappointment fueled her movements and she literally ran away from the house and from Will as fast as her cumbersome dress would allow. She was half way down the drive when she heard footsteps behind her and then someone took her arm gently, halting her.

"Lass, what's happened? Please, don't run off," Bill implored, breathing hard from his struggle to keep up with her. "I know it's going to be difficult, but he loves you, stubborn boy that he is…"

Elizabeth stopped and looked at her father-in-law's anxious face. "I am no coward, Mr. Turner and I had every intention of honoring my wedding vows and my love for your son. But don't you know? Will is apparently going to petition for an annulment. He claims it's for my own good, you see."

Bill looked stricken. "No, I didn't…Will and I haven't had the chance to say much to each other…"

"Well, now you know," Elizabeth said bitterly. "He claims that he cannot guarantee that he will be able to provide a comfortable life for me…that his hearing loss will bring shame to me and my father. Your son, Mr. Turner, has apparently not only lost the ability to hear, he has lost his mind as well!" she told him angrily, once again hurrying down the drive until she reached the road, past the waiting carriages not stopping until she was sure her father-in-law was no longer in pursuit. Her eyes burned and her lungs heaved and when she realized she couldn't keep the tears of frustration and disappointment at bay she dropped to her knees in a field of wildflowers and wept.

* * *

A gentle hand on her shoulder made her stiffen and at once, Elizabeth swiped at her eyes with the back on her hand. 

"Please...I'd like to be left alone..," she sniffed, trying to compose herself. The pressure on her shoulder increased ever so slightly, and Elizabeth looked up reluctantly to see who had followed her.

"Jack." Red-rimmed eyes widened in surprise and her face suddenly went hot with embarrassment.

To her further shame, Jack knelt beside her and rocked back on his knees, arms crossed over his chest. "You've ruined your pretty dress, luv. Your maid will surely have a fit when she sees those stains."

"This dress is probably older than my maid actually," Elizabeth replied dully, "but I'm sure you didn't follow me to discuss my wardrobe, did you, Jack."

Jack Sparrow's lips twisted into a half-smile. "No, but if I remember correctly you _do _have a very good eye for fashion. As a matter of fact…"

"Jack, please, enough blather; my head is aching as it is," she told him dejectedly, turning away. "Go back to the house…I'll be there in a bit. I just need a few moments."

"Yes, you probably do, but I've got a few things to say and I prefer we speak in private."

"Jack, please…"

"Elizabeth, you're a smart girl, luv. Now I don't know exactly what you and the lad were discussing but I can guess because I've been watching him closely since his…well since we picked him up from the 'Lady Jane' and I'm thinking you need to know a few things."

Elizabeth looked up sharply, her gaze meeting Jack's. "Know what? That my husband no longer wants to be married to me? I already know that, thank you very much," she told him bitterly.

Frustrated, Jack let our a loud sigh. "Will you just shut up and listen to me for a moment? You've got to be patient, girl, or you're going to lose the thing you hold most precious! I shouldn't be telling you anything…it's Will's place to do so, but he's not himself and he won't be for a while," Jack said carefully. "When we found him on the 'Lady Jane', your lad was in such a bad way we were sure he'd die. He'd been…mistreated by the ship's captain and for days we thought…well I thought he wouldn't make it home to you," Jack told her softly.

At once she stiffened, her heart freezing with dread. "Mistreated?" she questioned finally, her voice barely a whisper.

Jack nodded somberly. "Aye, the lash…for no good reason, mind you, and it almost killed him. I think it hurt his spirit though more than his body. That experience coupled with the loss of his hearing has left him…well, let's just say it's going to take a long time and a lot of patience for him to return to his old self."

"And I'm willing to do anything it takes to help him but he's decided to take the coward's way out and end our marriage, Jack," Elizabeth replied bitterly. "I have loved him since I was just a child and all I've ever wanted was to be with him. I don't care if he deaf or blind or crippled for that matter, I love him and I'll always love him, no matter what the circumstances!"

Jack nodded knowingly. "And he loves you, darlin', enough to leave you because he thinks it's the right thing to do. So you've got to be patient and show him that it's the _wrong _thing to do, savvy?"

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. 'And how do you propose I do that, Captain Sparrow? Tie him to the bed? Keep him prisoner in the wood shed? I can't make him stay if he doesn't want to."

"Oh, he wants to, alright. You know, the boy, Aaron, he knew all about you. All Will did on the 'Lady Jane' was talk about you, he said. Even in his sleep…and when he was ill, it was your name he said, over and over, and it was thoughts of you that made him break down and weep like a lost babe, I'll have you know," the Pirate captain told her matter of factly. "There's no doubt the boy wants to stay…he just needs to…adjust."

Elizabeth let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't know what you expect me to do, Jack."

"Juts give it another try," Jack said carefully. "Go back to the house and tell him what you've just told me…write it all down if you have to but tell him how you feel. And if he doesn't listen, well then I suggest you get your old friend Norrington to help you tie him to the bed," Jack said cheekily, his moth breaking into a wide, gold-toothed grin.

"Oh Jack, if it were only as simple as that," she told him, shaking her head at his silliness.

Jack pushed himself forward and rose to his feet. "Make it simple, luv," he told her wisely. "Now take a few minutes to think about what we've said that then come back and set the lad straight," the notorious pirate told her with mock sternness. "I'm planning on asking Norrington for permission to attend your big, fancy church wedding. You know I love weddings,' he said with a wink, "so don't disappoint me."

* * *

When Elizabeth had finally gathered up the courage to return to the house and face her husband she found her 'guests' waiting for her in the drive, preparing to leave.

"Where's Will?" she asked Norrington dully.

The Commodore frowned deeply. "He wasn't feeling well. Your maid prepared him a powder and he's lying down," he told her carefully. "We thought it would be best if we took the opportunity to depart… to give the two of you the chance to…sort things out…"

"A headache?" she questioned. "James, is there something you're not telling me about Will's health?"

Norrington let out a long breath. "Captain Sparrow mentioned that Will occasionally suffers from headaches, most likely some kind of after-effect from whatever injury caused his hearing loss. My surgeon will be visiting you as soon as Will is settled. Neither Jack nor the boy or Will himself for that matter seem to be sure if it was the explosion itself or some sort of head injury that originally caused the damage. I'm hoping my surgeon will be able to ascertain the cause. If he can, he might be able to help Will manage these…episodes," he explained cautiously.

Elizabeth bit her lip, mentally adding Will's headaches to her already long list of things she would have to help him face. "I'd be grateful if you could send him tomorrow if it's possible. The sooner he sees Will, the better."

Norrington nodded in quiet understanding. "Elizabeth, about the boy, Aaron. Mr. Turner has offered to take him to his rooms at the shop," Norrington told her hesitantly, "but I think you should know that he is very attached to Will,' the Commodore added, lowering his voice. "According to Captain Sparrow the boy has no one else. I know this is going to be a difficult time for the both of you but you'll need to decide what to do about the child," Norrington told her gently.

"The child will stay with us, of course," Elizabeth replied at once, her gaze traveling to where Aaron fidgeted nervously beside Bill. "If it's not an inconvenience, Mr. Turner, I'd be grateful if Aaron could stay with you for a few days…only until a proper room can be added on to the house for him. The guest room is too small and the nursery…" Elizabeth hesitated, stumbling briefly over her words, "the other room I fear is a storage room at the moment," she said finally. "As a matter of fact, I will make arrangements as early as tomorrow for the construction to begin," Elizabeth said with sincerity. "Is that alright with you, Aaron?"

The boy's blue eyes opened wide and his lower lip trembled and for a moment Elizabeth thought he might cry. She had no idea how old the boy actually was, but at that moment he looked so young and vulnerable that Elizabeth felt her heart break for the pain she guessed he had endured in his short life.

"Aaron?" she questioned softly when he didn't reply and the child simply nodded and dropped his gaze to his shoes. Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to take the boy into her embrace and comfort him, to let him know that he was now a part of her family, that he would always be safe and loved in her home. But the moment was awkward and so she simply smiled in response, before turning back to Norrington.

"You'll be returning Captain Sparrow to his ship I assume?"

Norrington grimaced. "Yes, I will be seeing to it personally, actually. I don't trust any of my lieutenants not to strangle him if he misbehaves…and we do owe him a debt of gratitude," he conceded.

Elizabeth took Norrington's hand in hers and squeezed it gently. "Thank you, James, for everything you've done for us. I know that Will and I have caused more than enough trouble to the Navy and I hate to think that you are indebted to Captain Sparrow on my behalf."

"I think we've just about squared with Mr. Sparrow. He saved the crew of the 'Intrepid' if you recall and I have repaid my debt by bringing him here to see you, as he requested,' Norrington told her softly. "Seems he wanted to bring Will to you himself…something about a promise he made to you."

Elizabeth looked over to where Jack stood in quiet conversation with Bill and nodded. "Yes, he did make a promise…and he has kept it. It seems as if we are even as well; Will and I saved him from a hanging and he has returned the favor by rescuing the both of us. Something tells me though that we haven't seen the last of Captain Jack Sparrow," Elizabeth said, faintly amused, as Jack grinned and waved goodbye, following Bill into Norrington's carriage.

"I've got to go…check on Will," Elizabeth told Norrington awkwardly. "I trust we'll see you soon?"

Norrington nodded. "Yes, you will. Elizabeth, if there is anything I can do…to help to…well if I can be of any assistance in any way, please send word," he told her sincerely.

Elizabeth nodded. "Thank you, James. But this is one battle that I'll have to fight on my own," she told her with determination, "and it is one I intend to win, at any cost."

To be continued…………

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Thanks to everyone who hasn't abandoned me and this story. It's a short chapter but after so many months of struggling with it I decided to simply post it as it is to get the story moving again. Also, if you want to leave a review, please make sure to log in or leave an email address because I like to respond to everyone personally:) 


	20. Part II Chapter 8

The Darkest Hour – Part II

Author – Unplugged32

Rating – PG-13

Classification – Post PotC fic - Will/Elizabeth romance, angst, adventure, oh and Jack of course;)

Summary - Four months after Will is lost at sea, Jack makes a startling discovery that will once again send our heroes into a tailspin of uncertainty, danger and of course, angst ;)

Disclaimer – Obviously, the recognizable characters portrayed aren't mine. No money being made, no harm intended.

Beta – This chapter is un-betad, so all mistakes are mine, but for previous chapters huge thanks to Nuit and Elements for beta, support, encouragement and friendship.

Author's notes – at the end of the chapter

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Chapter 8 

Nothing had changed in Port Royal in the months since he'd been gone, but to Will Turner nothing would ever be the same.

Nearly a month had passed since his unlikely homecoming and in that time not a moment had gone by where he didn't feel consumed by bitterness. As he walked through the empty, early-morning streets, Will passed familiar places that no longer seemed recognizable. The baker's shop still smelled delicious but the sound of Ned the baker's booming voice would no longer greet him as he walked by. Nor could he hear the cobbler's 6 children bickering over the breakfast when he passed their kitchen window. He only knew when it was time for church by the rush of well-dressed ladies clutching their bibles or that the fishmonger had arrived by the pungent smell of his wares.

He'd learned quickly to keep to avoid walking in the middle of the road; on his first tentative venture out on his own he narrowly missed being trampled by a traveling coach by sheer luck and a little help from Isaac the carpenter. It became apparent from that first day that he would need to drastically change his habits, and thus drastically change his life. Ironically, aboard the Lady Jane and later on the Pearl things had been easier. Aside from the fact that Aaron had literally dogged his every movement, life on board a ship had a steady routine that Will had awkwardly fallen into and for the most part had learned to navigate silently. But back in the busy port town that was once again his home, Will found himself floundering, his frustration fueling his bitterness and his quiet anger.

The blacksmith's shop was silent to Will, but he knew full well that inside it hummed with activity. His father and Aaron would be along shortly but Tom Black, the young African that Bill Turner had saved from a slaver was already hard at work inside, lighting the forge, cleaning and preparing the shop for the day's work. Tom had 3 years experience as a blacksmith behind him in the Colonies when Bill had found him hiding behind his living quarters, waiting to beg the former pirate for a job. It had been in the early days after Bill and Elizabeth's return to Port Royal and the older man had been determined to keep his son's shop going. Tom's appearance at his door only solidified his decision and the two had been working together, quite successfully, ever since. He was a likeable young man and Will had taken to him at once; his help and his eagerness to learn from Will were an asset to the shop that had gone from a small, one-man business to a budding enterprise with enough work for all four of them.

Inside the blacksmith's, Will greeted Tom warmly and carefully hung his coat behind the door, letting out a long sigh of contentment. There, in the shop, Will finally felt at ease and in his element. His father might have Aaron watching his every move, acting as Will's ears to avoid any accidents, but Will didn't take offense. There wasn't only his own safety to think of and if Will had learned anything over the past few months it was that pride and confidence were qualities that could destroy lives as easily as they could build them.

A look at the order ledger made him smile despite himself; since his return, their business had nearly doubled, the demand for his skills so high he had barely left the shop at all. This pleased Will on many levels. First, he was determined to repay his father the money he had given for the payment of his debts. Bill had been appalled and insulted at the suggestion but Will was determined. He may have gone to hell and back to save his father but they were still, for all intents and purposes, strangers, two men who shared the same name and the same blood but hardly anything more. The younger Turner wanted to get to know his father, wanted him in his life but on his own terms and in his own time. The extra work at the shop had also served to help Will regain his lost self assurance in himself. Although he would always see himself as less than what he once was, when he was working he managed to regain some of the confidence that had been so badly damaged along with his hearing. But mostly, Will found that the increased orders kept him away from his house and away from his beautiful and disillusioned wife.

From the moment he'd returned and seen Elizabeth standing in the drive, her hair and her clothes disheveled from gardening, Will thought he might die from his grief. How could he pick up his life as it was before? His wife was a vibrant and energetic young woman who deserved better than a deaf and defeated husband who's physical and emotional scars might never heal. The disgrace alone that his impairment would bring to her and her father made him cringe, as did the disfiguring scars that now covered his body. Offering Elizabeth an annulment seemed the honorable thing to do and he was both disappointed and secretly pleased when she refused. The fact that he had suddenly fallen almost violently ill with a headache and his subsequent overnight stay in the house with her without a chaperone had ended any plans for a termination of their vows. Will had not mentioned the matter again, nor did he move from the house.

He did, however, continue to sleep in the guest bedroom and did his utmost to avoid his hostile wife. Elizabeth that been so hurt by his initial suggestion that the tension in the air between them was thick enough to be sliced with once of Will's finest swords. As a result they simply co-existed sullenly, taking pains to avoid each other as much as possible, both spending their days thrown into their work.

No matter how much pleasure he received from his work though, the ache in his heart left him feeling hollow and utterly empty. A reconciliation with Elizabeth seemed almost impossible. If he were whole again and more confident he probably would have started from the beginning by courting her all over again and doing his utmost to woo her back. But since he was neither whole nor confident he could barely meet her gaze yet alone try and win her back. As a result, Will simply wallowed in the misery that was his marriage and stayed away from his beautiful young wife as much as possible.

The sound of the door opening never reached his deadened ears but Will knew that his father and Aaron had entered the shop at once. He smelled the strong soap that Bill used to keep the child clean, the tobacco from his father's pipe and was suddenly comforted by the familiar smells. Beside him an excited Aaron was desperately trying to tell him something with the use of crude yet effective hand signs and Will couldn't help but smile. He pushed the sadness from his thoughts for the moment and gave the child his full attention.

* * *

In another part of town, Elizabeth Turner was also trying her best to put her troubled marriage from her thoughts as she busily oversaw the construction of the newest addition her to house; a set of rooms for Aaron and hopefully at some point, Bill. The project had been slow in moving along though, a fact that left Elizabeth extremely frustrated. Delays in delivery of building materials, unexpected bad weather and a host of other small problems had left the extension only partially built almost a month after it's commencement. Elizabeth knew that Aaron was safe and comfortable with Bill but she also knew how important it was to bring him home, where he could be close to Will and hopefully grow closer to her as well.

No matter how busy she kept herself nor how tired she was after a full day, Elizabeth could barely close her eyes at night, especially knowing that her husband, the man she'd loved for most of her life, was sleeping just a few feet away from her in the guest room and not in her bed as he should be. Countless pleas of patience from both Bill and Norrington had left her sick and tired of hearing that word. Patience for what purpose? It was obvious that Will no longer wanted to be married to her; hadn't he even said as much when he'd suggested an annulment? There were days when she wondered if she's spend her whole life like this, living in the same house together, never speaking to each other again, never knowing the comfort of Will's arms around her, never feeling the warmth of his body next her hers. She'd briefly considered leaving the house and returning home to her father but had quickly pushed the thought aside when she remembered that there was Aaron to consider now as well. He was only a child, and a child that had lost so much already in his lifetime that the last thing that Elizabeth wanted to do was disappoint him once again. His excitement at the prospect of living with the Turner's, of being part of a family that included Bill in the role of a surrogate Grandfather as well as Norrington as an uncle of sorts had quickly wiped away any thoughts that Elizabeth might have had of abandoning her home.

The young woman sighed and accepted the cool glass of lemonade that Kerry handed her from a tray she'd brought out for the workers. The day was stifling and when Elizabeth hadn't been hovering over the carpenters and the stonemasons she'd been pruning her garden and helping Kerry, against the younger girl's loud protests, with the housecleaning. If she didn't keep herself busy, Elizabeth felt as if feelings of anger and frustration would certainly drive her mad. Oh how she'd tried to understand that Will had been through hell. She knew all about the physical torture he'd borne, the various injuries he'd received, the emotional distress he'd endured while on the Lady Jane, not knowing if he'd killed his wife in his attempt to save her. She knew his hearing loss made him feel less of a man and no longer worthy. But what Elizabeth could not understand was how Will could possible think that any of it would make her love him any less? Did he think so little of her? Did he not know her well enough to understand that neither his emotional nor his physical scars could keep her from wanting him and loving him with the passion that she'd always felt?

He'd done his best to hide from her, to keep fully clothed at all times in her presence but Elizabeth had seen the horrible white and pink scars that marred his back, some of the stripes so deep that skin had become puckered and raised in an attempt to heal itself. She hadn't meant to spy on him but one night, when he'd left his door open while changing for bed, Elizabeth had risen for a glass of water and found herself mesmerized by the horrific sight. Her gasp of outrage and grief for what had been done to him had gone unheard by her husband's silent ears but the sixth sense he had developed after his hearing loss had alerted him of her presence. Elizabeth watched in mute sadness as her husband turned to look at her, his expression dark and unreadable as he quickly pulled a clean shirt over his head, her eyes falling upon the scars that also marred his shoulder and side. After that night, Will has always been careful to keep his door, and his heart, Elizabeth thought bitterly, firmly shut against her.

"Miss Elizabeth?"

With a weary sigh, Elizabeth turned to see her maid beside her, a concerned look on the younger girl's face. "If you'll pardon me saying so, I think you should lie down for a bit…you look awfully pale…" Kerry said anxiously.

"I'm fine, Kerry," she replied at once, handing the girl the empty glass she held, surprised to see that her hand shook.

"Miss, please, you haven't eaten anything today and I don't like your color. Here, take my arm and I'll help you to the settee where you can close your eyes for a bit."

Embarrassed by her sudden weakness, Elizabeth waved the younger girl away and turned towards the house on her own. "I'm fine, Kerry. I just need a moment…" she began to say, when to her utter horror she lost her balance and everything went black.

* * *

In the blacksmith's shop, the door was thrown open with an urgency that could only mean an emergency of some sort. Will had not heard the slam of wood against wood, but Tom's reaction made him swing around to see what was amiss. A young man he vaguely recognized as a carpenter was frantically trying to relay something to his father and Tom, while a stricken Aaron listened mutely beside them.

"Tom, what's going on? What's wrong?" Will asked, a sick feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

Bill swallowed hard. "It's Elizabeth," he said slowly, so that will could make out the words. "She's taken ill," his father continued, trying to explain, but Will was already out the door.

Running through the streets of Port Royal, all Will could do was panic. He had no idea what had happened, nor had he bothered to wait for anyone to explain. The young carpenter that he had recognized as one of the men working on his house had seemed frantic and it had something to do with Elizabeth. That's all it took to send Will crashing through the cobbled streets and alleys, heedless of any danger to himself. _What could have happened? _he wondered anxiously, his heart in his throat when he reached the graveled drive that led up to his house, a strange carriage parked beside the front porch. Will burst through the front door, expecting the worst, so when he saw Elizabeth sitting on the settee looking more annoyed than ill or injured, he suddenly felt lightheaded with relief.

An older man that Will recognized at the Governor's physician sprang up from where he sat beside Elizabeth and guided Will to a chair, his chatter incomprehensible to Will's deaf ears, his expression concerned. It took the older man a moment to remember that Will probably couldn't understand him. The doctor shared a brief exchange of words with Kerry before the young maid hurried back with ink, pen and paper for the doctor to use.

"Take a few deep breaths, Mr. Turner and calm down, before I end up with two patients on my hands," the doctor wrote quickly and handed the note to Will.

"I'm fine," Will replied at once, tossing the note aside. "What happened? One of the carpenters came to the shop…"

"No need to concern yourself, Will, it's nothing," Elizabeth said almost defiantly, enunciating each word in a way that she knew that Will would understand. Her annoyance clear in both her expression and her manner, she struggled to get to her feet only to be pushed gently back onto the cushions by the concerned physician. The older man reached for the pen again, but Will stopped him. "Speak slowly, doctor, and facing me, and I will understand you," Will said, reddening slightly. "Now what's wrong with Elizabeth?" he asked anxiously.

"It's obvious that you've not been taking very good care of your wife, Mr. Turner," the doctor began, only to be interrupted by an outraged Elizabeth.

"Sir, I'll have you know that I don't need anyone to take care…"

"Yes, yes," the doctor said at once, silencing her. "That's why you fainted from exhaustion, young lady!"

Struggling to keep up with the conversation, Will sprang from the chair and moved closer to the physician. "Fainted, you say? From what?" he asked anxiously.

"From exhaustion," the doctor repeated carefully. "The maid says she barely eats, barely sleep and spends all her time supervising carpenters and stonemasons and doing God knows what else in this heat," he said, wiping his face with his handkerchief for effect. "Those are jobs for you, young man. Your wife should be indoors, doing needlework and baking biscuits, not working outdoors like a common laborer!"

After all their adventures, Will nearly laughed aloud at the thought of Elizabeth sitting primly in a rocker doing a cross-stitch. Or baking biscuits for that matter. But before he could reply Elizabeth went on a tirade of her own that Will could not understand, but from her expression he could clearly guess what she thought of the doctor's suggestion.

"Elizabeth, I'm sure that doctor Smythe means no offense…" Will began, hoping to calm his wife, who by this time was looking much paler than when he'd burst through the door.

"Well, I thank you both for your concern but if you'll excuse me I have a very busy day ahead of me… as I'm sure both of you gentleman do," she said haughtily, pushing herself up from the settee to her feet, where she wavered slightly before falling back onto the velvet cushions into an ungraceful heap.

"Elizabeth!" Will cried out in terror, rushing past the doctor to pull his wife's limp form into his arms. With shaking hands, Will patted her face gently, alarmed when it took a few moments for her to open her eyes.

"Will?" she questioned softly, dazed. "What..."

Will's expression went grave. "You fainted again," he replied, his voice hoarse with concern for her health. "You need to get to bed, _now_, so the doctor can examine you properly," he said firmly, lifting her into his arms effortlessly and carrying her up the stairs to her bedroom.

"Christ, Elizabeth, you must weigh less than Aaron," he told her angrily as he laid her upon the bed. "Doctor Smythe is right, you shouldn't be working all hours of the day like some dock worker or…"

"Please, Will, enough," she told him wearily. "Go back to the shop, I'll be fine."

A hand on his shoulder indicated the doctor's arrival and Will turned to the older man. "Are you sure it's only exhaustion?" he asked, eye narrowed.

"A word please, Mr. Turner," the doctor replied and led Will out into the hall, sending a concerned Kerry to watch over her mistress.

"Doctor, is my wife going to be alright?" Will asked, his throat suddenly dry and his heart pounding in fear.

"Yes, I'm fairly certain, after what her maid has told me that she has simply worn herself out," the older man said slowly, taking the time to ask Will if he understood.

"Yes, yes, I understand," Will assured him.

"Good, now since she has, er, assured me that she isn't with child," the older man said delicately, "I have ruled _that_ out as a possible cause as well as a number of other illnesses since she doesn't have any symptoms. In my professional opinion, Elizabeth simply does not take care of herself…do you understand, Mr. Turner?"

"Yes…yes I do," Will replied, "And I can assure you I will do everything possible to remedy that fact."

The doctor nodded. "See that you do, young man, because she may be fine for the moment, but if this continues, she _will_ become seriously ill. Now, see that she stays in bed for the next few days and takes plenty of nourishment. I suggest that you stay with her, at least for the rest of the day, so she doesn't try to get up again."

"Of course," Will replied at once and then called for Kerry to see to the doctor to the door and pay his fee. Once they were both gone, Will quickly changed out of his filthy shirt and took a minute to wash his hands and face before returning to Elizabeth's bedroom. Surprised to find her already asleep, he moved softly as to not disturb her, closing the door quietly against any noise from downstairs. The workers had abandoned their laboring after Elizabeth's collapse and Will was profoundly relieved that the house was free of strangers. The curtains had been mostly drawn against the sun, but Kerry had left a window open for fresh air so a slight breeze filtered through the room, prompting Will to cover his sleeping wife with a blanket he found on the foot of the bed. There was a chair in the corner by the window but Will did not sit in it. Instead, he removed his boots and against his better judgment, eased himself onto the bed beside her, pulling her sleeping form into his embrace, one hand absently stroking her hair as he breathed in the scent of her for the first time in months.

How long had he dreamt of this? Of holding Elizabeth in his arms once again and telling her how much he loved and missed her? Could this finally be the moment when he let his heart heal? Was he ready to let Elizabeth see him as he was now, no longer wide-eyed and full of dreams but scarred and damaged beyond what she could imagine? Will couldn't be sure of anything, not with his heart swelling with emotions; love, pain, fear, grief, all threatening to strangle him. He pulled Elizabeth tighter against him and buried his face in her hair. She smelled of the flowers she'd pruned and the earth she'd turned and when the tears came in crashing waves, Will did nothing to stop them.

To be continued…………

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Author's note; I have responded to about ¾ of the reviews I received for the previous chapter and would just like to apologize to those who didn't receive a response. If I simply say I was ashamed to reply, would you believe me? At some point, severe writers block had me considering abandoning this story altogether and so I simply didn't know what to say to my reviewers anymore. So now I'm officially apologizing for taking nearly a year to update, for not replying to everyone who took the time to leave a review, and for leaving this story hanging since October of 2003!!! Will any of you believe me if I say this story will be finished, no matter what? I hope so, because it's the readers who keep me going when I feel like giving up; you all mean the world to me and I thank you for sticking with me 


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